Strange Music
by mello-cellist
Summary: Modern day AU. Marianne had stopped playing the violin only to end up replacing her sister for a quartet practice. As Marianne gets to know the members of the quartet and as the strange music they play begins to lift her heart, she dares to hope for a new beginning. Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello and welcome to Strange Music! This is based on the movie Strange Magic, which I recently watched and absolutely adore! Being a very music-oreinted person and a member of a quartet for years, I thought that I could definitely put the characters into a little string group. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it!**

Marianne was determined to have a miserable time at her quartet practice. Her sister Dawn had scheduled another performance during the _regularly scheduled_ practices, and had once again relied on Marianne to fill in for her. Marianne did, however, prefer to play in a group rather than as a solo, as Dawn practiced the violin more diligently than Marianne. For all of Marianne's skill, she had struggled to learn the first violin part for the piece that Dawn's quartet had been working on, the part that Dawn had given her three hours before the rehearsal. Marianne had not played with a quartet for months, since her harsh expulsion from the group that she had started herself. _Dammit, Dawn,_ Marianne thought angrily, looking up at the house she hoped belonged to the cellist of Dawn's quartet, Strange Music. The address had been scribbled down hastily by Dawn's manager, Sunny, as he was nervously trying to hustle Dawn out the door and to the concert she was headlining, and Marianne had already been to two bad addresses. A short staircase led up to the front door, and in front of a small porch a cheery rock covered in flowers and paintings of birds proclaimed that the house belonged to the King's. Marianne sighed and flipped her violin case over her shoulder, climbing the stairs warily. The house was rather simple and even a bit worn-down, as some of the siding was turning green with moss and some vines climbed the sides of the house, no doubt due to the large oak trees that shaded the entire lot. Marianne cringed when she saw the doorbell, which was very nearly brown with filth. She opted to knock on the pure white door, the only thing that didn't look old and dirty. A rather raucous voice answered the knock, though the door didn't open.

"Is that my Dawn?" the voice squawked, sounding very female and rather low. Marianne winced a bit at it, and considered answering for a moment before heavy footsteps sounded, approaching the doorway.

"I told you, Mother," a deep voice answered, and Marianne could hear the locks being fiddled with. "Dawn is not coming. She has sent a substitute." It sounded annoyed and Marianne found herself being rather annoyed with this voice. The door was gently pulled open, and Marianne looked up. And up. And up. And there was the face of a young man who looked quite bored, though his icy blue eyes sharply darted over her face and to her violin. Marianne's first impression was that he was not very handsome; his hair was a deep brown, which should have complimented those piercing eyes, but just served to steep his face in shadow. His chin and nose were both very long, but his nose was straight and pointed, which should've looked regal but combined with his very thin cheeks and prominent cheekbones made him look thin and weary. "You are the violinist to substitute for Dawn?"

"Yeah, I'm her sister Marianne," Marianne replied to this deep-voiced, somewhat annoying man. She almost stuck her hand out to shake his, but a screen door prevented her from doing so.

"You're late," the man replied instead of offering a name, and opened the door for Marianne. "Stuff and Thang are already here."

"It'd be easier to find your house if I could actually see it from the road," Marianne replied by way of explanation, and swept by the man into a fairly small living room that she doubted that the quartet could play in comfortably. A taller, pleasantly plump young lady was tuning a violin and a very nervous-looking young man with incredibly thick glasses was sitting next to her with a viola, whispering to her.

"Well," the young man who had greeted Marianne at the door glared at her. "I'll do my best to be more accommodating next time." Every word dripped with unamused sarcasm. "Stuff, Thang, this is Marianne, Dawn's sister. She'll be playing with us. Marianne, this is Stephanie Crowley and Thomas Buckley."

"Call me Stuff," Stephanie shifted her violin to one hand in order to shake Marianne's. "Everyone does. Don't ask me how I got it. And just call him Thang…he won't answer to anything else." Stuff gestured to the man with bottle cap glasses.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Thang shook Marianne's hand as well, and he didn't quite seem to be so nervous anymore.

"I'm very honored to sit in with you all," Marianne smiled at the two, and frowned at the young man who had shown her in. "Though I don't think introductions are over yet."

"Oh, yeah, I'm Bog," the young man muttered, turning his frosty eyes to a cello that sat beside a chair at the far end of a semicircle of four chairs. "I'm the cellist."

"I can tell," Marianne replied stiffly, and unpacked her violin. "Let me tune before I give the A." She began fiddling with the pegs on her instrument, a bit embarrassed that it was so out of tune, and was interrupted by deep plucking. She looked up to see Bog strumming his cello and plucking out a tune that she didn't recognize. "Do you mind?" Marianne glared at Bog over her scroll.

"Hm?" Bog asked a bit absentmindedly. "Oh. I usually give the A, if you're ready to tune."

"Are you kidding me?" Marianne's patience was already being tested. "The first violinist always gives the A."

"I just figured since yours is out of tune, I'd do it this rehearsal as well," Bog shrugged, giving Marianne a challenging look. "Just so you can get the hang of playing with us, of course."

"This is only for this week," Marianne glared at Bog. "Dawn will be back next week and you guys can all go back to normal, or whatever 'normal' is for you."

"Ha!" Bog let out a short bark of laughter. "You come to the first rehearsal, you are a part of the group. Even if Dawn could make the rehearsal next week, you're the one we're going to be used to playing with. You're our first violinist, Marianne."

"No way," Marianne stood up from her chair and nearly dropped her violin. "I don't do ensembles."

"Look, you're first violin, and you'll get the solos that I don't," Bog replied, a hidden challenge in his words. "You won't have to worry about not being in the spotlight, Princess."

"I don't care about being in the spotlight," Marianne protested, frowning at Bog. "I just…don't play well with others, especially if they're like you."

"Miss Marianne," Stuff cleared her throat as though she was going to speak, but nudged Thang between the ribs. Some whispering ensued between the two:

 _You tell her, she likes you better._

 _Really? You think so?_

 _Sure! Bog likes you better too._

 _That's so nice!_

"We'd be very honored if you'd play with us," Thang spoke up boldly, a confidant look on his face. "Bog here can't seem to keep a violinist for more than one rehearsal."

" _Thank you, Thang_ ," Bog hissed, turning a very violent scowl on the violist, who turned back to Stuff and began whispering again. "However, if you're not up to the challenge, we _do_ have some very important gigs coming up, and we don't have time for a little 'fairy princess'."

"Oh, I'm not the fairy princess here," Marianne growled, but she sat back down in the chair for the first violinist. "Just give me a damn A."

"With pleasure," Bog smirked. "Once you're tuned, maybe you feel like giving us a bit of a demonstration?" Marianne noticed that Stuff sighed heavily and rolled her eyes while Thang flinched. She looked back at Bog, whose smirk contained something a bit malicious.

"Of course," Marianne replied haughtily. "Just don't get too intimidated there, King." Bog scowled at the name but provided an A for Marianne, and she went on to tune her strings in succession, ending on her E string.

 **I hope that sets the story up a bit well! I know it's a bit boring to read at first, but I hope you'll stick with it cause shit's gonna go down in the next chapter! Leave a comment below if you liked the story so far, and leave a comment if you didn't like it! I appreciate any and all feedback and I'll see you in the next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Enjoy!**

All was silent for a moment as Marianne got herself into position, and when she was sure that all of the players' eyes were on her, she erupted into the violin solo from Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto 1. The melody was rather sickly sweet, and Marianne was concentrating on her vibrato when a deep sound cut through it all. Marianne was so shocked that she actually lowered her instrument and saw Bog simply bowing his open C string with a grin that screamed a challenge. Their eyes met, and Bog's fingers flew up the C major scale and then stopped on a Bb, the note jarring to the ears as he very slowly slid it right back up to C. Marianne was furious. She put her violin back into position and attacked the Mendelssohn again, with more vigor and more ferocity. No longer was this a sickly sweet ballad, but a fight that she was determined to win. As Marianne broke in the piece where the orchestra would play, Bog's C string rang out again and his eyes bore straight into Marianne's. She could not look away as Bog played the opening riff to AC/DC's Thunderstruck. Marianne was taken aback to say the least, and as the first verse began, he nodded to Marianne with a raised brow. There was a challenge in that look, a challenge that Marianne would not pass up. She brought her bow down on the strings with a crunch, and began the melody line. _It's in C major,_ Marianne thought ruefully. _He's playing with me._ The melody was fairly simple to work out once she had figured out what key it was in, and as Bog kept a steady bass line going along with some _chnk_ s with his bow to mark rhythm, Marianne heard Thang's viola provide backup to Bog's line, and Stuff's confident playing added a playful duet to her melody. Marianne laughed, her eyes wide; it had been many months since she remembered actually having fun playing her violin. Eventually, however, the song had to end, and all members of the quartet were breathing heavily. Bog's eyes were locked on Marianne, and she met his stare with an upturned chin as if to say, "well? Do you deem me worthy?"

"That was awesome!" Thang gaped at Marianne. "That's the first time someone has passed the test that quickly!"

"It seems that Miss Marianne has a few tricks up her sleeve," Bog noted, looking curiously at this young lady, who was possibly just as talented as her famous sister. However, he had only heard of Dawn Primrose, or rather, she had heard of him. He scrutinized this sister, whose cheeks were flushed a lovely shade of red as her chest heaved with the exertion of playing. She certainly was not hard on the eyes, but Bog had noticed a bit of a slump in her shoulders that was rather familiar to him…the slump of defeat, of somebody that had given up. He'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't intrigue him.

"Well, _Bog King_?" Marianne flashed a cocky grin at the cellist and raised an eyebrow. The quiet man had been studying her and she couldn't help feeling uncomfortable as her thoughts flashed to another. Bog noticed that slump return and quickly cleared his throat.

"Not bad, _princess_ ," he teased right back, placing his bow on his stand and leaning on his cello. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to see how you fare in the first gig."

"Well, what is it?" Marianne asked impatiently.

"Your sister's manager hooked us up at one of those high-society tea parties," Stuff remarked excitedly. "We have to wear formal dress and everything! It's in a few months." Marianne noticed Bog shifting uncomfortably in his chair and thought with pleasure that he didn't seem to like what Stuff dubbed "high society". _Boy, is he in for a surprise._

"Music," Bog stated firmly, and began handing out parts after gently laying his cello down on the carpet. "We'll play mostly Mozart and Haydn quartets so it'll be pretty light. I'm afraid Beethoven is a bit over the heads of our high-society friends." Marianne perked up a bit at Beethoven.

"I like Beethoven quartets over Mozart or Haydn," Marianne cut in excitedly. "We should definitely play a few of those!"

"Although I share your love of Beethoven," Bog nodded at the girl, "We cannot choose what we want to play; I got a list of approved music from the clients last week and bought the parts." Marianne's shoulders dropped a bit, but she would be lying to herself if she wasn't a bit excited to play with a group again, especially a group of such interesting people. "Also," Bog began, waving his hand in front of Marianne's face to get her attention. "I can't hold every rehearsal at my house…"

"Why not?" Marianne narrowed her eyes at the tall man.

"Because I—" Bog began, but was interrupted by that raucous voice Marianne had first heard when she knocked on the door.

"Of course you can have all of your rehearsals here, dear!" a comically short woman backed out of a swinging door with a tray of what looked like freshly baked cookies and four glasses of milk. Marianne nearly laughed out loud at the horrified expression on Bog's face. "Your friends are so lovely! What's _your_ name, dear?" the woman turned to Marianne with a huge smile on her face.

"Mother, please," Bog glared at his mother and nearly growled. Marianne thought that she might throw up from trying not to laugh.

"Am I not allowed to meet your friends?" Bog's mother smiled serenely at her son. "I was just wondering who this very lovely young lady is."

"It's Dawn's sister Marianne," Bog's voice was clipped and he was sitting very stiffly in his chair. "Excuse us, Mother. This is a private rehearsal."

"What a mean son I have raised!" Bog's mother sniffled, placing the tray down on a nearby piano stool and deliberately slowly making her way back into what Marianne assumed was the kitchen. Bog was literally growling now and had his head in his large hands and by the time his mother glanced around for the third time he exploded.

"FINE! Just SIT on that bench and DON'T ask my group your silly questions," Bog roared, hands balling into fists. Marianne's eyes widened and she looked at Bog's mother, but Mrs. King just beamed at her son and sat on the piano bench with the tray beside her. Stuff and Thang just shared knowing looks and snorted. Marianne detected a weird lilt to Bog's voice, almost like an accent that his mother did not share. "The rehearsal's almost over anyways. Now, WHO wants to host next week's rehearsal?" Bog was still yelling a bit and Marianne flinched, which directed his gaze to her. "Is that a volunteer?"

"Whatever," Marianne muttered, glaring at Bog. "I'm not having it _every_ week at my house, either. We're going to trade off." Bog lifted his leering brows in surprise but decided to keep his mouth closed.

"So the rehearsal's over!" Bog's mother exclaimed, hopping off of the bench and walking over to take Marianne's hand. "I'm Griselda. So, how old are you, dearie?"

"Mother!" Bog snarled, shooting another leer at his mother. "Leave Marianne alone."

"You never let me talk to any of your musician friends," Griselda sighed sadly. Marianne hid another giggle as she began packing her violin back up. She grabbed a cookie with one hand and shouldered her violin case with the other.

"Thanks for letting us practice here," Marianne nodded to Griselda and Bog. "It was nice meeting all of you."

"Your address," Bog didn't so much as glance up from where he was putting his cello back into a soft case on the floor. Marianne rolled her eyes and pulled a marker out of her pocket and grabbed one of Bog's long arms. She scrawled down the street and house number as well as her name and capped the marker. Bog looked at her, then his arm. "Gee, thanks."

"See you guys next week," Marianne waved at the members of her new ensemble and walked back out the door and into her car. She took a very deep breath and leaned her head on the steering wheel. Yes, she'd had a wonderful time with the little bit that they had all played together, but it had felt the same way in her own group. Dawn had certainly been worried that it might force Marianne into the near-hibernation that she'd been in after the breakup of the last quartet she'd played in. Marianne was determined to show Dawn, and this new group, that she was ready to let music back into her life.

 **I do hope to make the chapters longer! How do you guys feel about Bog being the cellist? I actually started out with Thang being the second violinist, but I changed him to playing the viola cause I feel like Bog would yell at him the most. . I am going to bring the songs from the movie into the story, but you'll have to wait until the next update! Let me know what you think below! Thank you very much for reading! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Bog looked at the paper that was supposed to have Marianne's address copied onto it, and then back at the mansion that he stood in front of. His mouth had already been dropped open for a while now, but he couldn't close it. Sure, Dawn was famous enough to tour, but even professional musicians didn't make quite enough money to buy a house like this. Suffice it to say, Bog felt very embarrassed about his own home, which had earned him his little pet name. He rolled his shoulder that the strap for his soft cello case rested on and walked up the drive of the mansion and onto a large porch. He rang the doorbell and looked for Stuff and Thang's cars, but did not see them. _I'm the first one here…?_ Bog thought in surprise. Stuff liked to be early, and that meant that Thang, who was always being chauffeured around by her, was early as well. The door opened and Marianne was looking at him with a self-satisfied grin.

"Afternoon, Bog," she saluted him and held the door open. "I hope you're not too shocked."

"No, I—" Bog began, but found that he couldn't really make any words come out.

"Come on in," Marianne said smugly, ushering the tall man inside. He cleared his throat and walked in, stooping so that he didn't hit his head on the doorframe. "Let's eat before the others come."

"Eat?" Bog gave Marianne a confused look. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, you're just in time for 'high tea'," Marianne said a bit sarcastically, which made the corner of Bog's mouth twitch. "You can put your cello down in the tea room, that's where we'll be practicing as soon as I shoo my father out." She began walking up the grand stair to the double doors at the top, but soon realized that Bog wasn't following her. He was staring up at the chandelier, her father's pride and joy, with his mouth slightly open in amazement. "Yeah, that's my dad's," Marianne grinned at the man's expression. "Pretty much the whole house is his baby…"

"You…you have a lovely home," Bog's voice was still weak with shock. "It's…bigger than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, well," Marianne shrugged. "It's big for sure. It's a bit too much room, since it's just me, Dawn, and my dad." Bog nodded and his brows lowered, making his resting face look rather grumpy. Marianne waited until his long strides took him up the stairs to stand beside her, and they moved to the top of the grand staircase in silence. Marianne stopped in front of a pair of large double doors that were directly behind the staircase and turned to Bog.

"Where do those go?" Bog gestured with his chin to two other, smaller, staircases that led to opposite sides of the house.

"The one on the left leads to my father's wing, and the one on the right leads to Dawn and mine's," Marianne replied nonchalantly, before nodding to the room in front of them. "This is the tea room, and our practice room." She threw the double doors open to a very sunny sitting room. Bog's eyebrows shot up in shock as he surveyed the room; sunlight poured in through the large windows that stretched from ceiling to floor on the opposite wall of the room. The room featured simply a white coat of paint on the walls, some plastic chairs set up in a semicircle, and a large round table that was surrounded by white dining chairs. The table was set up by the windows, and Bog could see that three of the chairs at this table were occupied by none other than Dawn and two other men, one rather younger than the other.

"It's Boggy!" Dawn squealed, setting her teacup down rather ferociously and jumping out of her chair to skip over to Bog and Marianne. "Come and have some tea with us!" Marianne rolled her eyes and smiled at her sister's sunny personality.

"Uh, _Bog_ ," Bog leered a bit at Dawn but followed her to the tea table. Marianne was very gratified that he hadn't reacted _too_ negatively to Dawn's effusions, and followed the pair to the table grinning.

"Boggy, this is my daddy, Arthur Primrose," Dawn smiled sunnily up at the uncomfortable Bog and gestured to the older man who was sitting at the table. She then danced over to the younger man and slung an arm around his shoulders. "This is my manager, Sunny Daley." Sunny grinned up at Bog and raised his teacup to him cheerfully.

"Welcome to my home, Mr. King," Arthur stuck his hand out to Bog, who seemed to shake it in a daze. "I've heard so much about you from my girls." Bog shot a glance at Marianne, who had sat down beside her sister and taken a mug from the center of the table. She just shrugged and grinned evilly at him over her mug.

"What do _you_ like to drink, Boggy?" Dawn asked Bog, sitting in between Sunny and Marianne and grinning widely at him.

" _Bog_ ," Bog grumbled, taking his cello off of his back and sitting down between Marianne and her father. "I don't much care for tea, thank you."

"Neither does Marianne," Dawn shrugged and continued to smile at Bog. "Do you want hot chocolate instead?"

"Sure," Bog mumbled, glancing over at Marianne. She was now looking out the window at some of the loveliest flower gardens he'd ever seen, blowing on what he assumed was hot chocolate.

"So, _Bog_ ," Arthur addressed the newest member of the party. "You're a cellist? Dawn here says that you're very talented."

"Boggy is the best cellist ever!" Dawn gushed, which drew Marianne's gaze from the flowers. Marianne scrutinized Dawn and it appeared that her sister had, for the time being, set her romantic sights on Bog. Marianne rolled her eyes at the thought, as her sister was constantly chasing after some new man. As one of the top violinists in the country, Dawn did indeed have her pick of men, and it was something Marianne had recently decided was annoying.

" _Bog_ ," Bog corrected again, through gritted teeth. Marianne winced a bit. She hadn't wanted to expose Bog to _this_ much ridiculousness. "My mother wanted a musical child, and my father loved the cello, so my music career started young," Bog stated roughly, long fingers grasping a mug that Arthur's butler had handed to him.

"I've not heard your name mentioned among some of Dawn's peers," Arthur remarked curiously, sipping his tea innocently. "Do you not play professionally?" Bog shifted uncomfortably in his chair before Marianne slammed her hands on the table.

"Father, I think that I hear Stuff and Thang at the door. Would you come with me to help them in, Bog?" Marianne proclaimed, jumping up from her chair and grabbing Bog's shoulder roughly. Bog nodded emphatically and also got up from his chair, setting his mug gently down on the tea table.

"Excuse me," Bog said courteously before practically running out the double doors.

"Sorry about that," Marianne laughed nervously, trying to relieve some of the tension that Bog carried in his shoulders. "My dad can be…insensitive about people's situations in life."

"No, it's not your fault," Bog replied softly, and when Marianne looked at his face, it was thoughtful. "Thank you for…helping me escape, I guess."

"The King humbles himself to thank me?" Marianne fake-gasped, knocking Bog's shoulder with hers playfully. "High praise indeed!"

"Whatever," Bog's mouth twitched into something resembling a crooked smile. "You're still just a princess."

"Woah, Marianne!" Thang's normally high voice was taken up even higher in surprise. "You didn't tell us you were rich!"

"A bit insensitive, don't you think, Thang?" Bog snapped impatiently. "Maybe you should keep your observations to yourself."

"…Even professional musicians don't get paid this much," Thang mumbled inaudibly and abashedly. Stuff patted his shoulder and grinned at Bog and Marianne.

"So, where are we set up?" she asked after taking a good look at Arthur's chandelier.

"We're going to be in the tea room," Marianne waved her arm up the stairs. "Here, I'll lead the way." The quartet made their way up the grand staircase and happened to bump into Arthur, who was leaving the tea room.

"Ah, so this is the rest of your quartet, Marianne?" Arthur smiled, but scrutinized Stuff and Thang closely. "Should you ever decide to start recording professionally, you _must_ come to me first. I insist."

"Sure, dad," Marianne sighed and waved her father off. "We're going to start rehearsal now, so I'll talk to you later."

"Have fun, Princess," Arthur kissed his daughter on the head and waved to the rest of the quartet as he started up the smaller staircase on the left side of the doors.

"That was Arthur Primrose," Stuff gaped, slowly following Marianne into the tea room, but casting glances over her shoulder all the while. "The music producer?!" Marianne winced.

"Yeah, he's a music producer," Marianne replied a bit uncomfortably. "I like to think that we just live a normal life here, though."

"Living in a mansion isn't—" Thang began to say, but a larger foot on his caused whatever the rest of his sentence was to turn into a yelp of pain.

"Come on, let's get started," Bog stated rather impatiently, as he stalked over to his cello and pretended to be innocent. Marianne smiled widely and failed to hide it as she picked her own violin up off of a violin stand in the corner of the room. The violin stood beside a few others, all Dawn's, and beside several bows that hung on a few pegs on the wall. Marianne then walked over to the double doors and closed them, also locking them to the outside in the process, and sat down in her designated chair in the semicircle. Bog was shifting around in his own chair and adjusting his endpin, and Stuff sat down beside Marianne and began tightening her bow. "Hurry up, Thang," Bog growled at the violist, who jumped and scrambled to the seat beside Bog. Marianne noticed that Bog was about to put his bow on the A string in order to tune the group, and so she decided to put a stop to it.

"Here's your A, everybody," she smiled sweetly at Bog and her open A string rang through the room. Bog frowned at her, but he had that odd, possibly crooked smile on his face as well. He did tune to Marianne's A, and she took that as a good sign. She wasn't going to let him boss her around; she was going to show him just what they all had gotten into. "I think that we should start—"

"I think that we should start with Haydn Number 25, Opus 17," Bog interrupted, tilting his long chin upward confidently at Marianne and giving her a definite smirk. Marianne met his challenge with a raised brow of her own and nodded in defiant acceptance.

"I think that's enough practice for today," Marianne lowered her violin and surveyed the quartet with a smile. The practice had lasted for two hours, and went very well. "I guess I'll see you all next week at the King's house."

"Hey, Marianne," Stuff approached the girl slowly before packing up her instrument as the guys were doing. Marianne looked up curiously at the violinist, who was plucking the instrument a bit nervously. "I was wondering if we could all…exchange numbers? I was just thinking that we should have a way to communicate with each other."

"Of course, Stuff," Marianne replied with a wide grin. "I _had_ wanted to do that, but I totally forgot! Thang, Bog, come over here." Marianne barked at the guys, who jumped and speed-walked over to where Marianne stood. She whipped the marker out of her pocket and began writing on Stuff's arm first. "I'm going to give you all my number," Marianne began, then switching to Thang's arm. "Text me so that I know who you are, and then we'll all have each other's numbers." Marianne grinned as she reached for Bog's arm, only for him to flip it away from her.

"Use the other one," Bog grumbled, exposing his left arm to the impatient girl. "I still can't wash your damn address off." Marianne laughed.

"It's good to know that I can always use this marker to mess with your face!" Marianne, instead of capping the marker, stood on her tiptoes and drew a hasty mustache on Bog's face with the marker.

"This is one fight you don't want to get into," Bog warned, a mischievous look washing over his entire face. Marianne stuck her tongue out at him, capped the marker, and stuck it in her back pocket. "What, you think I won't get it from there?" Marianne's face instantly became serious and she took up a fighting stance.

"I don't think you want to try," Marianne replied coldly, but she became quite confused when Bog erupted in deep laughter. It wasn't a chuckle or a giggle of any sort, but a full and deep belly laugh.

"I was joking, Marianne," Bog gasped, and only doubled over in laughter was he at eye level with Marianne. "You should've seen the look on your face!"

"Yeah, yeah," Marianne retorted, flustered by the unexpected teasing. "I'll see you next week, _Boggy_." Bog wiped a tear from his eye and shouldered his cello case, a full-fledged smile on his face. Marianne practically stared; this was the first time that she'd ever seen the guy pull an actual smile, and she had to admit, he looked a lot more attractive when he did.

"Come on, _Tough Girl_ ," Bog flung over his shoulder as he followed Stuff and Thang to the door. "See us out." Marianne shook her head and followed the rest of her quartet to the door.

"That was fun, guys," Marianne grinned at the three musicians on her doorstep. Stuff whispered something to Thang, who then cleared his throat as Stuff took a step back.

"Thank you for having us, Marianne," Thang said courteously. "Stuff and I had a lot of fins." Immediately, Bog turned to glare at Thang.

"Is that really what Stuff said, Thang?" Bog facepalmed, and looked at Marianne. "Thang is very hard of hearing. I'm sure that he and Stuff had a lot of _fun_. As did I." Marianne laughed and assured a stammering Thang that all was well and understood.

"Well, Boggy," Marianne grinned at the cellist as Stuff and Thang pulled out of her driveway. "You had fun, huh?" Bog winced.

" _Bog_ ," he corrected with an eye twitch. "You're a very talented player…just don't get too full of yourself, Tough Girl." Marianne slapped Bog on the shoulder in a very friendly manner, but he was too tall to be pitched forward. Bog scowled at her in response.

"I wish I could say the same for you," Marianne teased, grinning.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, after that _audition_ , I was expecting…more?" Marianne raised her eyebrows at the man playfully. "You know, like AC/DC or Deep Purple instead of Haydn." Bog glowered at the woman with an even deeper scowl.

"That's only for playing around," he stated. "We do have to learn these pieces for a gig, you know."

"Maybe we're playing the wrong gigs," Marianne's smile turned a bit sour. "If you know what I'm talking about." Bog narrowed his eyes, but did not push the young woman. Clearly, she did not like being around high society more than she already was, and yet…he could tell that Marianne did love playing the violin.

"Well, yeah," Bog mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "The gigs you want to play the least also pay the best. I'm hoping this is the group that can go to the Banff International String Quartet Competition."

"Wow," Marianne's eyes were no longer pinched together in irritation, Bog noticed, but wide in curiosity. "You have your sights set pretty high. I wish I could be so ambitious."

"It's not ambitiousness," Bog corrected, giving that almost-smile that Marianne was nearly certain now was just a frown in disguise. "Let's just call it…fulfilling a dream for somebody else."

"Bog," Marianne began, and Bog was surprised to see her look strangely understanding.

"Marianne, it's time for supper!" Dawn's voice echoed through the cavernous emptiness of the mansion. "Hurry up and come inside! And give Boggy a biiiig hug for me!" A gentle, loving smile spread over Marianne's face, almost unwarily. Though Dawn could get on her nerves, and the whole "Boggy" was getting a tad overused, Marianne truly loved her sister and only wanted the best for her.

"Well, I'll see you next week, _King_ ," Marianne's grin was small but genuine as she waved goodbye to Bog.

"Better actually practice for next week, _Tough Girl_ ," Bog shouldered his cello and walked out of Marianne's door, only turning around to shoot a parting line: "I'm done going easy on you." Bog was not frowning as he left.

 **Hey everybody! Thanks for reading! Thank you for the reviews on last chapter, I'm so happy you are liking it so far! I know it's not a total week since the last update, but I've just been so excited while writing this that I had to post a new chapter. I'll put a link for a youtube video of the songs that I include in this story, so you guys can hear what the quartet is playing! Here's a link for the Mendelssohn piece that I had Marianne playing in the last chapter:** **watch?v=o1dBg_wsuo And here's the link for the Hadyn piece that the quartet is working on for their upcoming gig: watch?v=VDKqQm3iDWE So Bog doesn't play professionally...I think of him as more of a king of the "common" folk than a upper-crust kinda person like Marianne and Dawn. What do you guys think? I have some shit planned for my poor Boggy, so expect some exciting stuff in the next chapter and a bit of fluff! I'd like to respond to some reviews below (in order of time posted, so the earliest review first), so thank you all once again for reading! I hope the story continues to intrigue you and provide a great source of entertainment!**

 _Guest (Jul. 23)- Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I'm really glad you liked it! Thank you very much for your kindness! :D_

 _I Have Gone Away- I'm so glad you liked the story so far! I'm totally obssessed with this movie too, I've watched it at least once every night since I first got it! v_v Yay, a fellow musician! I'm glad to know that everything is understandable as far as the music part of this is going! And I do love violists (I've never once yelled at them)! Actually, it was always the second violinists that got yelled at in my experience, but everyone thinks it's the violas! It's disgraceful! But anyways, I'm glad that you like Bog on cello, I thought the same thing as you! I could literally go on for pages about this story but now I'M rambling, so to sum all up, thank you so much for reading and reviewing! There will certainly be a lot more (I have so much written) so I hope you enjoy the rest of the story too!_

 _Guest (Jul. 27)- I'm glad you thought Bog was good as the cellist! That was one of the things that I fought over for a while, so it's lovely to have assurance it was indeed a good idea! Thank you for reading and reviewing! I'm really glad you're looking forward to more!_

 _Guest (Jul. 27)- Thank you for reading and reviewing! I'm really glad that you found the fic interesting! I'm also very happy to hear that you like the idea of Bog as a cellist! I was worried it might be a bit confusing at first, so I'm glad it all makes sense!_


	4. Chapter 4

A few days had passed since the quartet had gotten together, and Marianne was trying very hard to practice, but having little luck. Every time that Marianne got her violin out, Dawn also suddenly had the need to practice for her numerous appearances. It was on such a day when Marianne's cell phone vibrated and she used this as an excuse to escape from Dawn's fawning and rather spotty practicing.

"Marianne, weren't you going to practice with me?" Dawn stuck her lower lip out and pouted.

"Not right now, Dawn," Marianne replied, looking down at her phone and starting when she saw the name of the text-sender. "This is kind of important. We can practice together later today." She kissed Dawn on her forehead and left the sitting room, going up to her own bedroom and sitting on the bed to read the text.

 _To: Marianne, Stuff, Thang_

 _From: Boggy Kingy-Wingy_

 _Subject: Strange Music_

 _I have a conflict with our usual rehearsal time this week. Would you guys be able to reschedule for another day?_

Marianne stared at the text with a bit of confusion as well as annoyance at her sister's change of Bog's contact name. Bog had always seemed like the least likely of the group to cancel, what with everything that he had said the day before. She decided to immediately text back:

 _To: Boggy Kingy-Wingy_

 _From: Me_

 _Re: Strange Music_

 _Chickening out, King?_

Marianne lay back on her bed and let out a deep sigh. She had been looking forward to practicing with the group again. Even though she had convinced herself that playing in another group was something that she did not desire, Marianne was exhilarated to have these new people, who all seemed very considerate, in her life. A vibration on her stomach caused Marianne to nearly rocket upward in anticipation.

 _You would know, Tough Girl. But unlike some other people, I actually have a social life._

Marianne grinned and quickly shot a text back.

 _That's not what you were saying yesterday._

As soon as she'd sent the text, Marianne thought a bit. What if he was missing the practice due to a death in his family? What if he had caught a deadly illness? She quickly typed a new text message:

 _Is everything okay?_

It seemed like ages until Marianne got a response from Bog, and it was long enough for her to think up every possible scenario that could be keeping him from the practice.

 _Yeah, I just have a family thing to go to. Worried about me, Tough Girl?_

Marianne growled in frustration at the man. _I try to be nice, and what do I get?_ She thought in frustration. Men were all the same. They thought that being nice was a sin or someth- The phone vibrated again and Marianne looked at the text with a feeling of immense confusion as an odd warmth that spread through her chest, a feeling that she thought she'd never feel again.

 _Thanks._

Marianne sighed, looking at her watch on the Wednesday of that particular week. This was the day that the quartet would usually practice, but they'd all decided to just meet up the following Wednesday as any other day was met with conflict on at least one person's end, which ended up with Marianne taking a ride on a dirty city bus when she would've much rather been playing with the quartet. Arthur had forgotten his lunch at home that day, as he had many times before, and as Dawn was going to an autograph-signing session, the duty fell upon Marianne to deliver her father's lunch to him. She knew the route to the studio quite well, but unfortunately she had to ride a bus to it. _I hate the disgusting air in here_ , Marianne thought, making a face as she noticed that her right hand was sticky. _Maybe Dad will let me just drive his car home…_ She removed her hand from the overhead bar and looked around for something to wipe her hand on when movement towards the front of the bus caught her attention. A very familiar, tall man with a case on his back was trying to squeeze his way onto the bus. Bog frowned at the amount of people on the bus; there was no way he'd be able to fit on there, let alone with his cello case. He sighed and looked at his watch nervously. He'd gotten held up at the coffee shop and now was almost late for the recording session. Bog had no choice; he would have to walk the ten blocks to the recording studio and hope that the orchestra would wait for him. As he dejectedly got back off of the bus, he heard a familiar voice calling his name. Bog looked up to find Marianne squeezing through the crowd of people and stepping off of the bus to join him.

"Fancy seeing you here, King," Marianne arched a brow at the young man, who was merely studying her with that bored expression of his. "I thought you had somewhere to be, canceling on us all like that."

"Yes, well," Bog cleared his throat, something that Marianne noticed he did when he was nervous. "I do have somewhere to be…I'm actually quite late, so if you'll excuse me…"

"Well, where are you headed?" Marianne asked, not letting the man escape. He was hiding something, and she was determined to find out what was so important. "Maybe we could walk part of the way together."

"Where are _you_ headed?" Bog replied suspiciously, looking down at her impatiently. He hoped to avoid telling her what he had planned for today for as long as possible.

"I have to give my dad his lunch over at the studio," Marianne held up a brown bag that had "Daddy" written on it, surrounded by little hearts and flowers. Bog snorted at the design.

"You've done a lovely job decorating it," his mouth twitched into that almost-smile. Marianne seemed to take the hint and had dropped the subject of where he was going.

"Yeah right," Marianne stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry. "Who likes this stuff?"

"Not me," Bog sniffed in disapproval.

"Well, I _hate_ it," Marianne crossed her arms and smiled ruefully.

"I hate it more," Bog replied stonily, hoping to end the conversation there and beginning to walk down the street. However, Marianne was soon walking beside him, almost jogging in order to keep up with his long strides.

"Oh yeah?" Marianne challenged Bog yet again. "I think they're all fools."

"They're just rushing in," Bog agreed, looking down at the girl who held more spite in her for the notion of love than he had thought. "They… _can't help it_." He pitched his voice as high as it could go, attempting—and failing—to mimic a Valley Girl. Marianne chuckled at this appreciatively.

"They're in chains that _bind_ you," Marianne added distastefully, but Bog's impression and his expression of amusement made it impossible to be entirely serious about the subject. She was surprised that Bog often made her laugh even when she felt that familiar surge of anger and betrayal. She was actually enjoying herself immensely, and didn't even notice when Bog stopped in front of her father's music studio until he cleared his throat.

"It was… _lovely_ …to see you," Bog forced out, and even though he grimaced as he forced the words out, it did not leave his mouth with a bad taste. In fact, he had to acknowledge that the statement was true. Rarely did Bog have the luxury of bantering with someone who wasn't afraid to stand up to him, as Stuff was the boldest one of the small group of friends he entertained, and Thang was always saying something that was, in Bog's opinion, stupid. He opened the door for Marianne, gesturing her inside before him, and decided that he would walk the block until he was sure that she was gone before heading inside, himself.

"Thanks, _Boggy_ ," Marianne grinned at waved at the cellist.

" _Bog_ ," Bog corrected again, although his mouth twitched upward slightly even as he said it. "If you really were a tough girl, you'd have opened it yourself."

"Hey, I thanked you, didn't I?" Marianne placed her hands on her hips and glared at Bog, who suddenly seemed to notice that he was still holding the door open.

"Well…I'll see you next week," he waved awkwardly and closed the door before walking away. Marianne waved back and turned to see one of her father's many assistants standing behind a polished mahogany desk, merely staring at her.

"Hey, June," Marianne sighed, plopping herself down on the receptionist's desk. "Dad forgot his lunch today, again."

"Believe me, Marianne," June laughed at the young girl's bored expression. "Your father noticed. What I wasn't expecting was that you'd be walking in with that guy who's recording today."

"What do you mean?" Marianne wrinkled her eyebrow in confusion.

"That young man with you," June replied cheerily, looking in the bagged lunch Marianne had set on the desk. "Oh, your father won't shut up about these brownies."

"There's a few extra in there, so make sure he shares," Marianne straightened and picked herself up off of the desk. "What do you mean, he's recording today?"

"Oh, he's part of the community orchestra," June reached into the bag nonchalantly and emerged with a thick brownie. "He actually wrote the piece that they're recording, I guess? But he's also playing in it, which confuses me. I didn't think that songwriters performed their own songs." Marianne, however, didn't catch this last part as she was lost in very confusing thoughts. Why hadn't Bog told them that he had written a piece? More importantly, why didn't he tell them that he played in the community orchestra? _I guess I could understand if he didn't tell_ _ **me**_ , Marianne thought a bit angrily. _But why wouldn't he tell Stuff and Thang? I thought they were all really close friends._ "Oh, hello sir," June piped up happily, turning Marianne's attention to the tall man who had just walked through the studio doors.

"Hi," Bog replied curtly, walking closer to the desk until he saw Marianne leaning on it casually, fixing him with an accusatory stare. His first thought was that he should've just told her that he was recording today…it would've no doubt spared him the immense feeling of discomfort that washed over him now. "Marianne, uh…"

"Hey, Bog," Marianne greeted the man rather coldly, and he winced. The last time she'd called him by just Bog, it had felt heavy and serious, as the air did right now.

"Marianne, I can explain," Bog shifted his cello awkwardly. "I just didn't want the quartet to think that I would prioritize it under this, and—"

"Even though that _is_ what you're doing," Marianne frowned at the stammering Bog. She wasn't really mad, just confused…and she wanted to watch the man squirm.

"You see, Marianne," Bog paused a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. He cursed inwardly; did he really think she'd have been gone by one walk around the block? "I…I've been working on this piece for a really long time and I wanted to make sure everything went well at the recording."

"What piece?" Marianne demanded, an idea forming in her head.

"It's an orchestral piece," Bog replied, squirming as Marianne had hoped. "I wrote it for—"

"King! There you are!" a sharp voice cut through Bog's and he winced. "You were supposed to be here half an hour ago! Time is money, you know!" Bog looked beyond Marianne to see Mr. Steele, the conductor of the community orchestra, tapping his foot impatiently and glaring at him. "You told us you'd be here. It's _your_ song, and you're still late!"

"I'll be there in two minutes, Steele," Bog growled at the man, hoping that he'd just leave it at that. Steele narrowed his eyes at Bog and nodded, whipping on his heel and striding back the way he had come. Bog then turned to Marianne, who he was surprised to see had a slight smile on her face. "Marianne, I didn't _want_ to hold information from you, but…"

"Bog," Marianne began slowly, glancing up at the man from under her eyelashes. "You don't have to explain yourself to me…I know that there are some things that are better kept to ourselves." Bog looked at her a bit suspiciously. She was drawn in around herself and not looking directly at him.

"Thank you, Marianne," Bog replied instead, scrutinizing the young woman. He sighed heavily and she finally looked at him curiously. "Since you have… _invaded_ this rehearsal already, it seems, would you like to listen to us record?" Marianne was shocked; this had been, a minute ago, such a private part of Bog's life that he hadn't wanted even his closest friends to know about it. And yet here he was, inviting a girl that he'd known for nearly a month, into his private life. Yet there was an odd look in his eyes, a look that almost, but not quite, pleaded with her to listen to his strange music.

"You really want me to listen to it?" Marianne asked doubtfully, now no longer looking at Bog from an angle but really looking straight into those bright blue eyes.

"Yeah…" Bog scratched the back of his head awkwardly, but he did not break eye contact with Marianne. She felt the warm feeling spreading through her chest again as she saw him visibly soften. "I mean…if you want to hear it."

"Sure," Marianne murmured, turning her head down in order to hide the sudden warmth spreading across her cheeks. Bog then chose the moment to be unexpectedly gentlemanly and held out his arm for Marianne to take and with a surprised look at the stony face, she slipped her arm through his and the two made their way downstairs.

"They are _so_ into each other," June commented to herself, sighing and shoving another brownie into her mouth.

"What kind of piece is it?" Marianne asked curiously, turning her head to her companion as they approached the studio door.

"It's an orchestral piece," Bog replied curtly, offering nothing else. Marianne glanced sideways at the man, whose mouth was set in a thin line and whose stare was hard as rock.

"Don't be nervous," Marianne stated nonchalantly, and she felt Bog's arm tighten. "I'm sure it's a wonderful piece."

"That isn't—" Bog began to exclaim impatiently, when suddenly the studio door was banged open. It was Bog's mother, Griselda, and she positively beamed at Marianne.

"Oh, hello again, dearie!" Griselda practically skipped over and leaned in to Marianne's personal space conspiratorially. "Don't you have a comb?" Griselda whispered to Marianne, who leaned back and shot a confused look at the small woman. Griselda proceeded to make hair-combing motions at Marianne until Bog decided to turn his glare in her direction.

"What are you doing here, mother?" he sighed in exasperation. "I thought you were going to lunch today with your friends."

"Oh, I was, but then Mr. Steele called me and told me that you were recording your song today!" Griselda exclaimed excitedly. "I know that there was that lovely cellist I wanted you to ask out, so I was going to—"

"Yes, _thank_ you, mother," Bog growled, pushing past his mother and into the biggest recording room that the studio had. "Come on, Marianne." Marianne reluctantly followed Bog into the room, glancing back to make sure that Griselda was following. What she was not expecting was the applause that greeted Bog. She looked around the room to see dozens of instrumentalists, of all ages and gender, putting their instruments on their chairs and clapping, some even whistling. Marianne glanced at Bog and almost burst out laughing; he wore a very deep scowl and did not even acknowledge the applause, merely setting his cello down near a group of chairs set up for a few spectators and the men who would be recording the group. The applause didn't die down until Bog had taken his cello out of its case and sat down in the first chair of the cello section, the place of the king.

"Come, dear," Griselda looped her arm through Marianne's and dragged her over to the chairs. "Let's sit down, it's about to start!"

"Um, okay," Marianne mumbled, scanning her eyes over the orchestra. It was so different from anything that she had encountered in her own musical career; Arthur had always made sure that his girls went to the finest conservatories and had the best teachers, therefore Marianne and Dawn had never really interacted with people who weren't professional musicians or related to a professional musician. These people were from all walks of life, and Marianne did not recognize a single one, but they laughed and talked amongst themselves with such an air of comradery that it almost caused physical pain with the jealousy that wracked Marianne's body. She had had that kind of friendship once…

"Are you okay, dear?" Griselda bent to look at Marianne, who had unconsciously doubled over in her chair. "You look a bit pale. Do you feel alright?"

"I'm fine, sorry," Marianne forced a smile and immediately stood upright. "Just feeling a bit sick. So, how long has Bog written music?"

"Well," Griselda began with a huge smile, which made Marianne feel as though she shouldn't have asked. "My dear little Bog has always written music, that's what made his father and I decide to have him play an instrument. He was always playing my husband's old piano, and he could really make it sing…Bog is the light of my life." Griselda smiled over at her son, not as widely as usual and much softer, and Marianne could tell that she was not lying. Bog, as if he could feel his mother's gaze, turned to her and frowned before turning abruptly back to his cello.

"Why is Bog so cold to you?" Marianne asked the older woman.

"Bog doesn't forgive me for many things that I've done in the past," Griselda chuckled. "But, I suppose, I haven't forgiven myself either. What matters now is that I can be with him and make sure he's happy." Marianne looked at Bog's mother in astonishment. The older woman was sitting quite happily in her chair, legs swinging at least a few inches from the ground, eyes locked on her son. "Do be good to him, dear," Griselda suddenly continued, still never looking away from Bog. "He deserves the happiness you can give him."

"We are _not_ dating," Marianne objected quickly, frowning at the ruination of the moment. With a huff, she looked away from Bog's mother and decided that Griselda King was not as deep as previously thought. _Love is for spineless, stupid people_ , Marianne thought in frustration, and merely stewed in her seat until one of the tech gurus yelled, "Quiet in the studio, please! Let's get this song started!" Marianne looked at Bog, who was taking a deep breath and rolling his shoulders before placing his bow on the strings expectantly. Mr. Steele had his arms up, baton in hand, and waited there for what seemed like an eternity. It was, as Bog would've had it, the calm before the storm. Mr. Steele's hands flicked down and the brass immediately began playing a long, low note that resonated in Marianne's chest. She sat up straight in her chair as the woodwinds began playing a haunting melody against that long, low note, and the combined efforts sounded almost like a pipe organ. The chorale continued for about a minute before the conductor cut the sections off at the end of the high melody, and then there was a painstaking moment of silence before Marianne heard soft plucking. It was Bog, plucking that melody from the chorale, only in a major key; it sounded much better than the twisted and dark melody that it had been before. Then Bog placed his bow on the strings, and the melody was immediately put back into the minor key, with crunching and sliding galore. It almost made Marianne want to put her hands over her ears, but the violins all began to start playing, and getting gradually louder, continuing the happier, lighter melody that Bog had started out with. It became a duel, the low brass joining Bog's dark side while the woodwinds flipped and danced around the violin's melody. The violas began adding small trills and Marianne hadn't noticed their own melody until it decided to join the war between the violins and the cellos. It was mellow and sweet and it was both its own separate strain, but also an addition to the violin's beautiful melody. The crunching, churning, distorted melody of the cellos and low voices was beginning to fade, more and more of the instruments adding their own voices to what Marianne was now beginning to deem the actual melody of the piece; a beautiful, airy little song that reminded her of running through meadows and ducking around trees, picking up mushrooms and flowers. Bog's eyes were closed and his head was thrown back in an ecstasy that was taking Marianne's breath away. Finally, he was the only one still trying to play the minor version of the melody, and the happy tune played by the rest of the orchestra slowly, slowly faded away until Bog's very soft, low E was the only note being played. It, too, slowly faded and after what seemed like an eternity to Marianne, the conductor slowly lowered his hands to his sides. The orchestra burst into applause, excited whooping, and whistles as Bog slowly retracted the cello's endpin and rose from his chair. He shook Mr. Steele's hand and walked over to Marianne and Griselda.

"What'd you think, Tough Girl?" Bog wouldn't have admitted it to himself, but he was nervous to hear this high-society girl's opinion of his piece. He accredited it to the fact that her father was indeed the one producing that recording.

"Bog, that was…" Marianne trailed off, trying to find the words to describe what she'd just heard. "That was amazing."

"You did wonderfully, my precious boy!" Griselda approached and hugged her son around his waist, which was about as high as she could reach. Marianne saw Bog's expression soften a bit and he wrapped his free arm around the woman and squeezed slightly.

"Thanks, mother," Bog mumbled, walking over to his case and putting his cello away. Marianne trailed a bit behind him, scratching her arm a bit nervously. "I'm glad you liked it," Bog muttered while putting his cello in his case and zipping it up. "I was thinking about writing something for the quartet to perform at the Banff International String Quartet Competition and it's always good to have the performer listen to a bit of the composer's style."

"What, you think we can't handle it?" Marianne grinned as the man heaved the heavy instrument onto his shoulder and finally turned to face her.

"Only you," Bog sniffed, beginning to walk to the studio door. "You say you're such a tough girl, but I have yet to be impressed."

"Well then, hold onto your socks," Marianne crossed her arms as the two made their way back up the stairs, trailing a beaming Griselda. "Once we get done with this gig, _I_ get to pick what and where we play next."

 **It's an EXTREMELY long chapter, but I really wanted the whole event to take place in one instead of splitting it up. Also, I'm eager to move on because the next chapter that I'm writing has a lovely character that some people have been asking about, and I'm excited to post that. I know this chapter doesn't really have much to do with the movie's storyline, but I'm trying very hard not to deviate TOO much. Anyway, how do you all like the story so far? Are the characters acting the way that they're supposed to? What'd you think of Bog's composition? Even if I don't necessarily get many reviews or favorites or follows, I'm still going to continue writing this for myself; I'm obsessed with this movie. Anyways, thank you so much for reading and/or reviewing! I really like reading what you guys think about this story, so don't be afraid to post a review (even if you hate this story)! Now to answer reviews.**

 _I Have Gone Away: Hey, thanks for reviewing! I love reading it. I'm really glad that I have someone on the same wavelength as me! [insert another happy dance] MY GOODNESS I'M SO GLAD I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE THINKING ABOUT BOG BEING A COMMON KING I THOUGHT I WAS ALONE! I tried to make it a bit more obvious in this chapter (not sure if it obvious to anyone but myself), so do let me know! God, I just love the fact that they are DUPER SUPER in love with each other but they are TOO STUBBORN to admit it! Gah! I'm glad the banter is coming across well, that's always something that I have a LOT of trouble writing, actually. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so much (believe me, I'm having just as much fun writing it)! I intend to finish this story, so don't fear that I will not update it! Also, in regards to Roland (I was going to keep it a secret but it's killing me), he's going to be in the next chapter! So that's something to look forward to! Thank you again for writing such a wonderful review (as I continue to write the longest response in the world)!_

 **Thank you again, everyone! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

The next week's rehearsal had gone without a hitch, and Stuff and Thang had been incredibly interested in commissioning a piece from Bog, as well as the Banff International String Quartet Competition. That Saturday was an event called the Spring Ball, at which Strange Music would be providing some background music for the dinner portion. The players were, of course, invited to stay afterwards for dancing and socialization, but Marianne did not particularly have a choice in the matter as her father was the one who was hosting it. Though Arthur had not had a say in the choice of entertainment, Sunny had talked the young debutante who was _supposed_ to arrange for a quartet into going with Dawn's quartet over another rather well-known upper-crust quartet known as the Knights' Army. Marianne was particularly grateful for this, as the Knights' Army had been the quartet she had started several years ago with her ex-fiancé. Marianne was trying to dig her way through these dark thoughts when a gentle knock drew her attention to her bedroom door.

"You may come in," Marianne called, already dressed in a short black-and-white dress with tall boots and black tights. Dawn entered with a huge smile on her face, trailed by Sunny, who looked much less enthusiastic.

"Hey, Marianne!" Dawn beamed at her sister and immediately began running a brush from Marianne's vanity table through her hair. "Are you ready for the dance yet?"

"Well, yeah," Marianne rolled her eyes and gestured to her outfit.

"You're going…like _that_?" Dawn pointed at Marianne's dress with barely concealed disgust. "Good luck getting asked to dance!"

"I'm _not_ dancing," Marianne replied quickly, with a small chuckle.

"Well, I'm going to dance with the most perfect guy!" Dawn pumped her fist in the air excitedly and turned to Sunny. "Speaking of which…what did you have planned?"

"Well, I've made it so when the DJ starts playing the dancing music, you'll 'accidentally' bump into Hadrian," Sunny winked at the girl and nudged her with his elbow.

"Oh, you're the best, Sunny!" Dawn squealed, throwing her arms around the small man. "Tonight is going to be perfect!" Marianne let out a small laugh and shook her head.

"It already is," Sunny sighed dreamily. He had secretly admired his client ever since he had first seen her, and now…the only way to be her close friend was to be exactly that, which meant setting Dawn up with other men. Sunny had been getting tired of this charade, however. He decided that he would tell Dawn how he felt, not tonight, but soon…as soon as he worked up his courage and decided what exactly he was going to say.

"Wait a minute," Dawn pushed away from Sunny and his heart stopped momentarily. " _Hadrian_? I don't have a crush on _him_."

"Who, then?" Marianne asked before Sunny could stammer out a response, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. "Aaron? Benjamin? Charles? Darren? I'm going in alphabetical order, if that helps."

"I really—" Dawn shot a glare at Marianne before continuing. "—have a crush on _Nathan_." She sighed dreamily, and Sunny heaved a huge sigh.

"Now I gotta find Hadrian and get him to stand in the new place and get Nathan to stand in the old place that Hadrian was standing in, and—" Sunny's muttered plans were suddenly cut off by a gasp from Dawn.

"What if he doesn't like me?" she moaned, holding her head in her hands. Marianne smirked to herself and stuck a silver hoop earring into her earlobe.

"Hey, snap out of it!" Sunny took Dawn's hands abruptly, forcing her to look into his face. "It's like I always say: Don't worry 'bout a thing, cause every little thing, gonna be alright!"

"In the wise words of Bob Marley," Marianne laughed, putting in her other earring. However, Sunny's words did cheer Dawn up, as she looked at the man and smiled at him.

"You're right, Sunny," Dawn chirped, still grabbing his hand and leading him out of Marianne's room. "We'll see you downstairs, Marianne!"

"Yeah," Marianne replied with a small smile, and she sat on the edge of her bed looking at her violin. _I know he's probably going to be here…will I still be able to play?_ She was beginning to despair when a heavy knock fell on her open door. She looked up and was surprised to see Bog, Stuff, and Thang all peering in at her.

"Hey Marianne!" Stuff beamed at the girl, looking lovely in a short black pencil skirt and a lacy black top over a white camisole. "Your dad told us to leave our cases in here. Hope that's okay!"

"Yeah, that's fine!" Marianne shook her head a bit to clear it and beckoned the group inside. "Sorry, I was lost in thought. So, I'm going to have to walk into the party with my dad and sister first, so we can introduce ourselves and make formal announcements and stuff. Then I'll come down and join you guys and we can start. Is that okay?" Marianne could tell that she was rambling, a bad habit that occurred when she was nervous, but Stuff and Thang just nodded contentedly. Bog, on the other hand…

"You okay?" Bog asked, looking directly into her eyes. He'd felt very uncomfortable downstairs, walking through several people who had already arrived and others who were setting up tables and chairs, but Marianne looked more than just uncomfortable. Marianne was startled, but she could see the concern in the cellist's eyes.

"Yes," she murmured, and she suddenly did feel better with the other three members of the quartet there to help her get through the night. "I think that I'm going to be just fine." She smiled to prove it, earning a nod from Bog.

"So, are we going to Haydn _and_ Mozart tonight, or just Haydn?" Thang asked Bog cheerfully, rosining his bow and blissfully unaware of the cellist's irritated expression. Had he not had his back to Bog, or had he glanced over in time to see Stuff wince, Thang definitely would've been able to avoid the rough shove of his shoulder that came from Bog.

"Of course we're playing Mozart _and_ Haydn," Bog growled, causing the violist to shrink back a bit. "Or else we wouldn't have _practiced_ them both." He was about to let loose a stream of reasoning and insults on Thang when Bog felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Marianne, who was shaking her head slightly. It filled Bog with a feeling he had not recognized since he'd accidentally led his mother's cat out to the bog that surrounded their yard despite her warnings when he was nine; it was a feeling of guilt, something he _definitely_ hadn't felt towards his actions regarding Thang.

"As soon as we get tuned, you guys can head downstairs," Marianne addressed the whole quartet and took her hand off of Bog's shoulder. "I set up some chairs for us. We'll be right outside of the tea room, and everybody will be eating and dancing in the foyer."

"You guys should see me dance," Stuff smiled, bringing her violin down from her chin for a moment and doing a little spin.

"I'd love to!" Thang beamed back at the girl as he finally brought his viola up to his chin, nodding to Marianne that he was ready to tune. She glanced around her room and saw that Bog was merely standing, not pulling the endpin out of his cello so he wouldn't have to sit down in order to tune it. She waited for him to immediately leap upon his opportunity to take charge of the group, but Bog merely looked at her, and Marianne started in shock.

"Go ahead," Bog nodded at the violinist in irritation, and Marianne's tuning A was a bit shakier than she intended it to be. She took a deep breath and steadied her hands, grinning when she realized that Bog had been trying to make her feel at ease, and was none too pleased when she failed to pick up on it. Marianne studied the cellist as he bent over to crack a peg down, then up, in order to tune his instrument. He was actually wearing dress pants, something she didn't think that she'd see, and a smooth black tie with a black pinstriped vest. The only thing that seemed out of place on his person was a thick black cord that appeared above his white collar, yet disappeared beneath his shirt at the nape of his neck. As if he could feel her gaze, Bog whipped his head up to glance at Marianne, then straightened. He adjusted the collar of his shirt until Marianne could no longer see the necklace. _Maybe it's just dog tags,_ she thought, quickly turning her scrutiny to the carpeted floor beneath her feet. _Or a locket? A shark's tooth, maybe?_ Marianne snorted with laughter as she imagined the overly tall, serious man on a surfboard.

"Something amusing you, Princess?" Bog's voice rumbled out, breaking Marianne's composure as she full-on laughed, placing a hand on her knee so that she didn't fall over. Stuff gave Marianne an odd look, but Thang awkwardly tried to join the laughter in an attempt to make Marianne feel better.

"Sorry, guys," Marianne breathed heavily now, wiping a tear from her eye. "I'm ready to go now. I'll show you where we're sitting, but then I'll have to leave, so don't be intimidated."

"Nobody can imitate us, Marianne!" Thang puffed his chest out proudly, Stuff facepalmed, and Bog just sighed in exasperation.

"Just follow Marianne, Thang," Bog grumbled, picking up his cello and his rock stop and whipping past the other two members to stand behind Marianne. He was definitely cranky now, faced with the prospect of the members of high-society that his father had always adored. He saw Marianne turn and give him what he took was to be a reassuring smile. _You don't know the half of it, Tough Girl_ , he thought irately, but it was more than Stuff and Thang had ever done, as they never seemed to notice his unease. Marianne led the group from her bedroom to a long corridor that opened up to a balcony that overlooked the foyer. Bog could vaguely remember the route from being shown into Marianne's room with Stuff and Thang, but he hadn't exactly been paying attention to what the guide that may have been a maid was saying. Near the end of the balcony was a stair that led down to where the tea room was situated, and then the grand stair that led to the foyer, where there were several long tables were set up with so many seats that they looked like ants to Bog. The balcony continued to wrap around the perimeter of the house, and on the area that was above the tea room, Arthur and Dawn were apparently waiting for Marianne and surveying the gathering crowd just inside the front doors.

"Well, this is where I'm going to have to leave you," Marianne said with a smile, surveying the looks on who she now considered to be friends. Stuff was barely containing her excitement, but was warily glancing over at Thang, who was surveying the whole foyer with a large grin. Bog had a polite yet obviously strained smile on his face, but Marianne barely had time to squeeze his hand reassuringly before Arthur spotted her and started calling for her. "I'll be right down, as quickly as I can. Remember, we're supposed to be having fun!" Marianne turned quickly and with a wave, started jogging around the balcony to where Arthur and Dawn were standing.

"Don't run, dearest," Arthur chided his daughter fondly. "What would the ladies of the upper crust say?" Marianne elbowed her father.

"Don't worry, dad," she replied softly, taking a deep breath and letting it _woosh_ out in a harsh exhale. "They've already told me several times that I'm incorrigible."

"Don't forget to smile, dear," Arthur turned to Marianne as he linked arms with her and Dawn and they set off for one of the staircases to descend to the second level. Marianne shot him a very strained smile with a weak noise that he guessed was a stab at laughter. Arthur gave Marianne a sideways glare instead, and muttered through his teeth, "A real smile."

"This is one of my better ones," Marianne retorted, gesturing vaguely at that sorry excuse for a smile. Arthur felt that familiar pang in his chest, a reminder that his child was growing up, and growing up unhappy.

"You used to love the Spring Ball," Arthur urged his daughter, waving at some of the individuals who had noticed the trio descending the stairs.

"Dad, I'm just too old for this," Marianne hedged, following her father's suit and waving.

"I just want to see the happy Marianne that I used to know," Arthur sighed wistfully and pulled his hand down to pat Marianne's. "Before the…the _Roland_ misunderstanding."

"I'm happy!" Marianne protested quickly. "I'm…happy…" she murmured again, as if trying to convince herself of the fact.

"Well, I hope you're happy enough to dance with your father," Arthur gave Marianne a broad smile and squeezed Dawn's hand, who squealed and practically ran over to a young man who was standing by the head of one of the long tables. Marianne was about to break away from her father and join the expectant quartet when suddenly, she heard a voice that she had always hoped she'd never have to hear again.

"Or maybe," the voice interjected, continuing her father's offer. "Someone… _even better_." Marianne's eyes slowly rose to rest on a very handsome, very well-dressed young man with a flashing smile and gleaming blonde hair.

" _Roland!_ " Marianne gasped, instinctively taking a step backwards, before deciding against running away and stalking instead towards the quartet, who were all giving her very confused looks as the man followed her.

" _Woah, oh, oh, here I am_ ," Roland began singing, his voice taking on a Southern twang that Marianne found so revolting she was having trouble keeping her lunch down. " _Down on my knees again!_ " He was dressed in what looked like a very expensive green-and-gold silk suit, which made Marianne doubt that he was actually going to kneel. She was doing her best to avoid looking at the man, picking up her violin and avoiding the gazes of her fellow string players, but she did spare an angry glare for her father, who she assumed knew about Roland's attendance. " _I'd do-o anything…just to make it right_ ," the man continued, curling a golden bang around his finger and then looking yearningly at Marianne.

"I'm _so_ onto that hair thing," she growled at the man and finally looked up. Stuff was glaring at Roland, and Thang was actually blowing raspberries at the man. But Bog…Bog was literally sneering at the man, lips pulled back in a snarl and hands clenched into fists. Marianne was flooded with a wave of relief; they were defending _her_ honor, in their own ways, something that she wasn't always assured of with her father or her sister.

" _Say you'll understand_ ," Roland still had the gall to continue, and was ignoring the crowd of guests that were looking at him like he was a lunatic, the rest of the quartet, and the disapproving glare of Arthur Primrose. " _Oh! I know you can…C'mon, Marianne._ "

"You sing even worse than you play the violin," Marianne sneered at Roland. "I didn't think it was possible. Get out of here, Roland. I'm not anything to you anymore, and I'm not going back on anything that was said when we broke off the engagement."

"It was one little mistake, darlin'," Roland drawled, reaching a hand out to touch Marianne's hand. She smacked it away with an indignant gasp.

" _Little_?!" Marianne screeched, getting up out of her chair, still clutching her violin. "You've got a _lot_ of nerve coming in here!" She lifted the violin to her chin and the opening lines of _What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger_ rang, cold and clear, through the foyer's spacious room. Marianne knew the song incredibly well and she sang the lyrics in her head. Right when she started into the chorus of the song, however, she was surprised to hear bass notes furiously being bowed along with her melody and looked over to see Bog glaring at Roland with such hatred it nearly took her breath away. After Bog joined her, it wasn't long before Stuff and Thang hopped in, weaving in and out of the melodies and harmonies. Marianne's bow attacked the strings with a fury, rosin clouds puffing out and dissipating into the air every time she whacked the bow back down on the strings. As she began the second verse, Roland suddenly butted in with his own violin, no doubt given to him by one of his three minions standing behind him. The triplets had stuck to Roland like glue since they first transferred to the private music conservatory that Marianne had attended instead of a public high school, and they were his backup even now as Roland started up another chorus of _C'mon Marianne_. It was Strange Music versus Knights' Army, and it was a showdown that even the members of the high society couldn't resist. The triplets had all brought the instruments that they needed, and quickly got situated in order to back Roland up, but their music was shaky and often out of time. Roland was so focused on being the center of attention that he left the triplets to figure out the music, rhythm, and harmonies on their own.

Marianne was fed up with Roland's arrogance at this point, and while Strange Music played on like a well-oiled machine, she advanced on the man. With every step that she took, Roland took a step back until he was backed against the doors and was forced to put his instrument down. Marianne stopped playing and held up a hand for the other quartet members to stop playing. She glared down at Roland, who had by now abandoned hope of winning her over tonight and was now frantically trying to open the front doors. The triplets were scrambling to get their instruments back in their cases to follow Roland out, but it was too late.

"It's time to say goodbye, Roland," Marianne hissed at the man and pushed the doors open behind him, causing him to fall on his behind on the front porch. She pulled the doors back closed and dusted her hands off. "Bye-bye!" she chirped with a false cheer, before turning back to the room full of high-society ladies and gentlemen who were all staring at her, stunned. " _Now_ we're having fun!" Marianne exclaimed, beaming smile on her face and a bit of sweat trickling down her face from her hairline. The room was so quiet that she could hear some guests shifting their weight from foot to foot.

"Awkward," Dawn murmured through clenched teeth, her arm now looped through the arm of a handsome young man that was seated at a different table. Marianne huffed a sigh of annoyance and turned back to her quartet. Stuff was smiling, teeth a bit overcrowded, Thang was laughing quietly to himself and shaking his head, and Bog was giving her an odd look of pleasure and admiration. Marianne's heart swelled; they were helping her to feel better already and she hadn't even talked to them yet. A sharp sound made Marianne jump and whirl around, causing her retreat to the quartet to pause for a moment. It was someone clapping, alone at first, before the rest of the guests joined in and began to smile.

"What a lovely performance!" a particular older gentleman smiled at Marianne and shook her hand. "I daresay you've brought some life back into this party, my dear!" Marianne beamed back and took a bow, then gesturing to the other members of the quartet, who startled and stood up with many scuffles, bowing alongside the violinist. As Marianne sat down and looked around the semicircle to smile and scrutinize each musician, she wondered why she had ever stopped playing in the first place.

 **Finally! Finally we have a bit of Roland! Man, I had WAY too much fun writing this chapter, even though I pretty much had to cram it into two nights on account of a four-day camping trip. I hope it's equally fun for you to read! What did you guys think about the "fight" scene? I didn't really have time to find a string quartet arrangement of What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger (and I don't have internet at my house), but as soon as I do I'll leave a link for it! Roland didn't really have many speaking parts, and I tried to keep pretty close to the movie in this chapter, but I do have a bit of non-canon stuff planned for these lovelies! What do you think their next gig will be like? Also, here's a link that I used when researching the Banff International String Quartet Competition: .ca/bisqc/about/ Anyway, thank you guys SO MUCH for commenting on this story! I love all of the feedback you're giving me. Please do continue! Thank you for reading and I'll make another long rant at the end of next week's update! Now for review answers:**

 _NinjaHime1996: Thank you so much for reading! I'm really glad that you like this story! Rest assured that I'm going to continue this story until I finish it; I promise! Thank you for favoriting and following the story as well, I really appreciate it! :)_

 _tmwillson3: I'm gonna go ahead and respond to both the reviews you wrote, both of which I am incredibly grateful for! I'm really glad you like the mixture of classical and rock, that was one of the things I was a bit worried about when I started the story; would people still like it if I mixed in that classical music aspect? I'm really glad to get some reassurance! I'm hoping to do a whole lot more with the rock songs and songs from the movie mixed into the string quartet format, so I hope you'll stick around and give some more feedback on it! I'm also very glad that you liked the idea of Bog being a composer; another thing that I was quite unsure about. I'm glad the song that he composed sounded as good in the story as it did in my head! I totally agree with Bog on bass and Marianne on piano! I was originally going to write a story about them being in a rock band, with them on those instruments! It just seems so right! Sorry, this response is so long! :O Thank you so much for reading this story and leaving your feedback, I truy appreciate it!_

 _Guest 61: I'm really glad you liked the last chapter so much! I giggled when I was writing about poor busted Bog! XD I imagine him to be quite a flustered young man when his plans don't work out. I will keep updating until this story is finished! I am super determined to keep it going! Until then, thank you so much for reading this story! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!_

 **Also, many thanks to the incredibly lovely tmwillson3 for locating a lovely string quartet version of Stronger:** .com/watch?v=TowAlQ1uQnU


	6. Chapter 6

The playlist that Bog had arranged for the quartet did not include any more… _unconventional_ pieces, but the guests seemed to like them just as well as they had liked _What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger_. They seemed to prefer Mozart to Hadyn, as the Mozart No. 21 in D Major got a standing ovation, though the guests were in the middle of their deserts. The quartet did not break and did not rest until the last guest was done with their New York style cheesecake, which kept them playing for an hour and a half. Marianne could tell that Stuff was getting a bit tired, as the girl would rest her violin arm against her hip when she played, at times. She looked almost ready to keel over when Arthur finally announced that the tables be moved to clear a dance floor and the DJ table be brought out. Bog nodded to Marianne, signaling that their current piece, Hadyn Op. 20/II, would end at the next repeat sign in their sheet music. She nodded back, and glanced over at Stuff and Thang to make sure that the two had caught on. Stuff was breathing a sigh of relief, and Thang nodded back to Marianne, his surprisingly long tongue sticking out of his mouth. Once the quartet had stopped playing, there was a polite round of applause as the musicians stood and bowed. Marianne was immediately approached by several guests, congratulations and exclamations of "I didn't know you played as well!" reaching Bog's ears as he observed the woman. He was quite transfixed, after all that had happened; she was spontaneous, bursting into that song when she was being harassed by that… _beast_. Bog's mind appealed to the wittiness of hers, as well as her ferocity. Marianne had shown no hint of doubt, no sympathy when she faced down that man, and Bog would be lying if he told himself that it didn't impress him.

"Boggy!" a familiar, high-pitched voice assaulted Bog's ears and he winced, turning to find Dawn behind him with a huge smile on her face. "The music was great!"

" _Bog_ ," Bog corrected with a sigh, though he was nearly ready to just let her call him 'Boggy' and be done with it.

"I'm so glad I had Marianne fill in for me!" Dawn blinked happily, shrugging her shoulders, though taking care to keep her hands behind her back. Bog muttered something unintelligible and turned to the grand stair. Dawn's hand shot out like a lightning bolt and pushed something onto Bog's chest before he could completely walk away from her. He stared at the girl in shock, first, then looked down at his vest, to which there was now attached a small boutonniere.

" _What_ is _that_?" Bog's face screwed up in horror as he looked at the flower. It was small and white, but was surrounded by gold and green leaves. It looked absolutely _hideous_ with his concert dress.

"I made it for you," Dawn was undeterred, standing on her tiptoes and biting her lower lip. "I hope you like it. I know it doesn't go _very_ well with your vest, but I know you can wear it with other things!"

"For…me?" Bog looked astonished. "I…I don't…this isn't—!" The man was getting flustered and his voice was raising to nearly a shout, but his mouth snapped shut when he saw the hopeful expression on Dawn's face. Bog cleared his throat. "Thank you…" he muttered reluctantly, waving his free hand around as if he could pull some words from the air. "It's…it's… _lovely_." His face screwed up a bit at the word and the right side of his face twitched, but it was worth it as Dawn's face glowed with happiness.

"I'm so glad you like it!" Dawn gushed, hugging the man's free arm. Bog rolled his eyes and tried to dislodge himself from the vicelike grip, managing to successfully pull his arm out after a few tries at tugging.

"I need to put my instrument away, so if you'll excuse me," Bog stalked away from the exuberant girl with his shoulders taught.

"I'll see you later, Boggy!" Dawn called, waving at the man and ignoring the way he winced and yelled, " _Bog_!" over his shoulder. Marianne watched the exchanged, bemused smile on her face, yet oddly uncomfortable. She was feeling a bit overwhelmed with all of the compliments, and politely excused herself from the crowd of her father's friends and connections. As she followed Bog up the stairs, she looked over her shoulder to see the tables being cleared away in preparation for dancing and wondered if she _would_ end up dancing tonight. Though Marianne followed Bog rather closely, he didn't say a word to her. She wondered if it was because of Roland showing up in the middle of the ball and trying to woo her. Marianne cleared her throat a few times, glancing over at Bog to see if he was responding at all, but the man merely continued to walk up the stairs, and then through the maze of corridors to get to Marianne's room, where Stuff and Thang had already congregated. The two were whispering to each other and jumped guiltily when Marianne entered the room.

"Hey, Marianne," Thang was wringing his hands nervously. "That was some playing we did, huh? It sounded really good even though we didn't practice it all." Stuff rolled her eyes and turned to put her instrument away, which made Thang look even more nervous.

"Yeah, you guys were great," Marianne replied, shooting the pair a smile, but she could feel her heart pounding incredibly hard.

"I think I'm gonna head down for some dancing," Stuff informed Bog and Marianne, slinging her violin case over her shoulder. "I just need to put this in my car. Coming, Thang?" The small man nodded his head and murmured something under his breath that Marianne didn't quite catch, and the two were out the door, quick as lightning. She heaved a sigh of relief that was apparently audible to Bog, who turned from his packing to glare at her.

"What, Bog?" Marianne huffed, suddenly impatient with the man. He hadn't said a word to her since the performance and it was irking her.

"So, you know Roland," he growled, folding his arms across his chest. Marianne started in surprise.

" _You_ know Roland?" she narrowed her eyes at the cellist.

"Roland, those three idiots that follow him around, drooling over him," Bog looked like he was going to spit on Marianne's carpet, pretending that it was Roland. "They completely ruined my life."

"That makes two of us," Marianne sighed wearily, sitting down on her bed. "What happened?"

"You mean…you're not his girlfriend?" Bog blinked at the girl, surprised. He had overheard Roland talking about her not two days ago in one of those aggravating real estate meetings.

"Of course not!" Marianne laughed harshly, and Bog heard the undertones of hurt and anger that he knew so well. "We ended things months ago!"

"What happened?" Bog asked quietly, sitting down beside Marianne, though he knew full well the answer that she would give.

"Roland and I used to date, and we had been dating for a few years before this," Marianne glanced warily at Bog, but relaxed as she noticed the several inches of space that he had left between them. "We went to the same school and we were in the same quartet for a while."

"The Knights' Army," Bog breathed, frowning as if the name was sour on his lips.

"Yeah," Marianne's laugh this time was small and sad. "I started it with Dawn and a few of her friends, but Roland convinced me that he could join, and since Dawn was getting busy with her own career, she said that he could replace her. At first, it was wonderful, playing with him. The rest of the quartet didn't even matter. I let my guard down." Marianne's hands bunched into fists and grabbed her black tights to keep her voice from rising in anger.

"What did he do to you?" Bog's voice was deadly soft when he replied a minute later. Marianne was grateful for the moment to compose herself; she took a very deep breath before continuing.

"Roland eventually started dropping the other players…my _friends_ , and he replaced them with those triplets," Marianne continued, and as she noticed that the more she was talking with Bog, the less her heart felt weighed down and the less she felt as though she was carrying a large burden. "I thought I was so in love…I just let him do whatever he wanted. It seeped into our relationship as well. Roland spent a lot of time with Dad, and was learning about how to take over his business; what _I_ was supposed to be doing. But Roland distracted me with a proposal, and I spent all of my time preparing for the wedding. The day before the wedding, I walked over to Roland's to surprise him with a boutonniere, but I found him tangled up with some other girl." Marianne found that she could finally say the words without bursting into tears, though it did leave her mouth with a bad taste. "I called off the wedding. I wish I never had to see the man again, but my father is still convinced that he has a 'good side' and loves me."

"Ouch," was the only thing that Bog could bring himself to remark. Marianne looked up at him, a surprise smile forming on her face. He had been listening to her intently, and was now blushing slightly. Marianne's laugh was still small and her face was still twisted in anger and sadness, but it was a genuine laugh. Bog scratched the side of his face awkwardly. "You know, our stories do end up overlapping."

"Oh?" Marianne asked, looking at the man expectantly. Bog glanced back at her, then quickly directed his eyes to look at his own shoes.

"I knew a girl," Bog began, wringing his hands nervously. A lot of time had passed since he had told his mother the story, and an even longer amount of time had passed since it actually happened to him, but it still hurt Bog every time he thought about it. He stopped talking; he felt like he was going to throw up, before he felt a comforting warmth on his ever-cold hands. Marianne had reached over and put a hand on his, and she squeezed once before letting go. Bog's stubborn mind thought it seemed like an annoying therapy session, but he was grateful for the companionship, in any event. "I knew a girl…she worked at your dad's studio. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I ended up walking past her every time I went to rehearse with the community orchestra, but I could never talk to her, let alone ask her out on a date. A few weeks of these infuriating circumstances passed, but one of my friends happened to win a few tickets to Cirque du Soleil. So I decided to approach her with them; how could she say no, I figured. As you know already, Roland was at the studio a lot, and he often helped record the studio orchestra. We talked a lot, as he was interested in helping me produce a few of my pieces. He was the one who told me that this girl loved the circus, and he was the one who actually gave me the tickets, convinced me to ask her to go with me. We had a really great time at the show…or so I thought. We went out for a few weeks and it was like some sort of wonderful dream." Bog's eyebrows furrowed, and he hissed through his teeth, "I should've known better."

"What…happened to you two?" Marianne gazed at the man with equal parts of wonder, concern, and curiosity.

"We began to go on less and less dates," Bog replied slowly, staring at his hands as he gradually opened and closed them repeatedly. "She canceled on me several times, and I wanted to just believe that it was what she said it was. I guess…I knew better. I even asked Roland about it, because he knew her fairly well, but he said he didn't know anything about it. What a load of shit." Marianne's eyes began to widen in realization. "I just wanted to make sure that she was okay, one night, and I drove over to her apartment to see her and surprise her with some dinner and ice cream. Imagine my surprise to see my so-called friend in her apartment with her. I imagine that she's the girl who ruined your engagement. I hadn't seen either of them until that lowlife showed up tonight. He spoke as though you two were a couple, and it confused me, to say the least." Bog swallowed and took a deep breath. He was nervous to speak, as he wasn't sure what to say anymore; he hadn't talked that much since a conversation with his mother about the same topic.

"Well," Marianne sighed, clapping her hands flat on her thighs and breaking the silence that had threatened to go on forever. "I guess we really did have more in common than I first thought."

"Yeah," Bog agreed warily, looking over at the woman. He was pleased to see that she had a small smile on her face, and he could feel a similar smile spreading upon his own. "Sometimes I wonder if I wasn't too hideous to love, perhaps she'd have chosen me." The words tasted bitter in Bog's mouth, and he heard a sharp intake of breath from the woman beside him.

"You're not hideous," she murmured, almost shyly, but Bog just shrugged his shoulders and turned a bit more away from her. "Sometimes I wonder if I wasn't too much of an oddball, perhaps Roland wouldn't have needed to find somebody else to love."

"Oddballs…are what I like," Bog said incredibly quickly, before quickly backpedaling with, "I mean…well…you know!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, and Marianne heard that odd accent that she'd heard the first day she met Bog.

"I've been meaning to ask," she laughed nervously, looking at the cellist, who was still avoiding her gaze. "What kind of accent is that?"

"What do you mean?" Bog defended, finally whipping his head around to glare at the girl. "I don't have an accent."

"You totally do!" Marianne's mouth hung open, cocking an eyebrow at Bog in disbelief. "It sounds almost like a British accent!"

"It's not British!" Bog snapped, confirming—for Marianne, anyway—that the accent actually existed. He noticed her smug smile and got even more flustered, turning bright red. "Quit looking at me! It's not a big deal!" A Scottish brogue broke through, and it was over for Bog.

"It's Scottish!" Marianne howled, grabbing Bog's arm as he leapt from the bed and tried to make a hasty escape from the room. "What, are you Scottish?"

"My father!" Bog yelped, the abrupt jerk from Marianne causing him to crash down on the floor beside the bed. Marianne was too busy laughing at Bog to help him back up, so he stood on his own with a powerful glare at the woman. "We lived in Scotland for a while after I was born, and we moved to the United States about eight years ago. Excuse me for taking a while to adjust!"

"I'm sorry, Bog," Marianne giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. "But I'm not sorry." She cocked her head as she heard the music wafting up from the floor below her room. It had changed from loud, throbbing club music to a slower, sweeter song. "Wanna go downstairs?" Marianne grinned at Bog.

"Not really," Bog frowned and stuck his tongue out. "Tall folks like me never dance very well."

"I think it's time you learned," Marianne grabbed the cellist's hand, pulling him with her out the door. Bog's eyes widened in surprise, and a painful yet somewhat pleasant throbbing in his heart made him realize that he was in danger of falling for her. As they descended the staircases together, the two were bathed in a gentle blue light that fell over the room, shading everyone that was on the dance floor. Bog looked over at Marianne and felt his breath catch. All trace of the girl who had held his heart before vanished as he stared at the fiery girl. The blue lights caused her eyes to glow, slightly accented by the happiness that was dancing in them, and seemed to comb through her hair. The floor was crowded by several other couples who were gripping each other tightly and swaying back and forth to the song, Strange Magic, but Bog felt as though he and Marianne were the only two people in the room.

 _You're walking meadows in my mind…_

She grabbed both of his hands now, whirling them both in a twirl and laughing. As they slowed to a stop, a small, gentle smile spread across Marianne's face, entrancing Bog. She drew nearer to him.

 _Making waves across my time,_

 _Oh no, oh no_

She had to stand on her toes in order to loop her arms around his neck, but blushing furiously didn't stop Bog from placing his arms around her waist. Her body bumped against his before she leaned into him, and the two began to sway together slowly. Marianne was stiff at first, but when she heard a long breath of release from Bog, she relaxed against him, feeling a thrill at the way his arms gripped her close.

 _Oh, I'm never gonna be the same again…_

Marianne let her head rest against the man's broad chest, and she could hear his heartbeat racing, but it was pounding to the same beat as hers. Bog pulled away, looking at the woman, whose eyes were wide and her lips parted in a sort of surprise. He looked down at his shirt, and saw a purple-and-yellow flower tucked between other flowers of white, green, and yellow. He plucked it from the boutonniere, placing it instead behind Marianne's ear. She looked up at the man, a broad smile on her face, her eyes almost filling with happy tears. She quickly looked away, trying to hide her face from the man, who was smiling at her. It was not one of his grins, but an innocent, purely happy smile, and it made Marianne's heart skip a beat.

 _Got a strange magic…_

 **Okay, I know I haven't updated in a LOOOONG time! I have a somewhat good reason, too! I just started another term at university, and I've been spending all of my time lately on moving in and schoolwork. This chapter had a lot of development that I wanted to get in, as well, and it wasn't as exciting for me to write (until the end, of course) because I was pretty stressed out. However, things have slowed down a tad, so I will hopefully have some more time to work on this lovely little fic. It's actually going to wrap up in a few chapters, I think! It's going faster than I anticipated, but I'm pretty happy with the pacing. Please let me know what you guys think about the pacing! Also, I'm not going to answer reviews in this one, but I PROMISE that I will respond to all of the reviews that have been posted for the last chapter AND this chapter in the next one! I will also try to make these more regular, and I'm hoping to get a lot of prewriting done before I have to start teaching lessons again. Anyway, please let me know what you think by reviewing this story! I decided to have Bog know Roland, as it's going to be clear why as the story progresses. What do you guys think? How'd you like the bit of fluff at the end? I'm hoping to include a bit more fluff in the next few chapters as well!**

 **Also, and I know I said I wasn't going to do this, but I was thinking of writing another fic for this wonderful movie. I have a premise, but I want to know if you'd be interested in reading anything more from me? Please leave a review and let me know!**

 **Thank you all for reading this story, for reviewing, and favoriting/following! Even if you don't review or follow/fav, I'm so glad that you read it and are enjoying it! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I appreciate all of your feedback and all of your support!**


	7. Chapter 7

Marianne looked at her phone impatiently. She and Bog had been texting back and forth for the past few days about their selections for both the Banff International String Quartet Competition as well as the performance that Marianne had arranged for Strange Music. It had been a few hours since Bog's last text, though they had been sent rather regularly, and Marianne found herself pining for the company. They had danced together at the Spring Ball several days earlier, and she had been feeling somewhat…sick ever since. A knock came to Marianne's door, and she lifted her head from her pillow to yell, "It's open!"

"Hey Sis," Dawn called affectionately, sitting on the bed beside her sister's prone body and crossing her legs. "I haven't gotten to talk to you for a while…"

"Yeah, you've been busy with performances and I've been busy with the quartet," Marianne replied knowingly, nodding her head as best as she could. She decided to sit up instead, to better scrutinize her sister. "I've missed spending time with you."

"Me too," Dawn agreed, smiling softly. "Wanna go make some tea and watch a movie in the den?"

"That sounds good to me," Marianne clapped her hands and bounced off of the bed into a standing position. "I'll go get the hot water going, you go and see if there's anything good on Netflix."

"Yay!" Dawn squealed excitedly, springing to her feet as well. "We should TOTALLY watch Pitch Perfect!"

"How about something _without_ singing in it?" Marianne laughed before drawing her sister into a hug and then kissing her forehead. "All the singing and the musicals drive me crazy!" Dawn began to pout, but quickly brightened up when Marianne let out an exaggerated sigh of relent. The two sisters walked down the stairs together before parting at the top of the grand stair where Dawn walked into the tea room and Marianne continued down the grand stair to the kitchen. The kitchen was located in a large room that was directly to the left of the bottom of the grand staircase, to allow for ease of access to the foyer floor, which is where the family frequently held their large parties.

"Hey, Cook," Marianne stepped into the kitchen cheerfully, finding Arthur's prize gourmet chef whipping up some delicacy for Arthur's early dinner. The chef gave a smile and nod to acknowledge Marianne's presence. "I'm just gonna make some tea and hot chocolate for Dawn and I."

"Sounds like a regular movie night, dearie," Cook's hands were almost a blur as she chopped up some vegetables to add to the chicken stir-fry that was frying on the stove. "Your father seems to be on a bit of a Chinese kick, so maybe you should watch Kung-Fu Panda. My son loved that movie."

"I'm afraid Dawn's already declared it to be a Pitch Perfect afternoon," Marianne laughed and flipped the switch on the kitchen's automatic teapot. "How late are you staying tonight, Cook?"

"As long as it takes to get you all fed," Cook winked at Marianne and stirred the concoction in her wok.

"You can go home after you finish cooking for the beast," Marianne winked right back and drummed her fingers on the table. "I have a feeling that Dawn and I are just going to be eating popcorn and pizza rolls tonight." Cook and Marianne shared a laugh before a slight clatter at the door drew Marianne's attention to an ashamed-looking Dawn. "Hey, Dawn, did you find anything worth watching tonight?"

"Actually, Marianne," Dawn's voice was soft and her eyes were cast downward, and Marianne could make out a few traces of tears on the girl's cheeks.

"Is there something that Sunny needs you to attend tonight?" Marianne walked over to her sister and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Dawn nodded and threw her arms around Marianne.

"Yes, and I'm sorry!" she nearly sobbed into Marianne's T-shirt. "He just called me and it's this orchestra from Berlin that wants me to play with them and I—"

"Dawn, it's okay," Marianne chuckled slightly and pulled her sister back to arm's length so the two could look each other in the eyes. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm not mad, and you're doing just fine. You go ahead and go to this rehearsal, and we'll just have a movie night next time. Sound good?"

"That sounds good," Dawn wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, Marianne…I really do want to spend time with you."

"I understand, Dawn," Marianne smiled at her sister to make sure that she knew it was okay. "You go and get ready. We don't want you being late to meet up with Sunny, now do we?"

"Help me pick a dress to wear," Dawn grabbed her sister's arm before she could protest. Marianne, not wanting to upset her sister again, relented with a large groan, which elicited a smile from Dawn. Marianne constantly had to remind herself to treat her sister gently. Ever since they were young, she'd had to protect Dawn from not only the rumors at school, but some of the things that happened to Marianne herself. She hadn't even been able to talk to Dawn about Roland, when she had called off the engagement. While the two sisters were very close and Marianne considered Dawn to be her best friend, Marianne was always being reminded that her sister was quite different from her, even hobby-wise. While Marianne had preferred to spend her free time picking up fencing and martial arts in high school, Dawn had decided to learn how to sew and arrange flowers.

"Okay," Dawn said determinedly, closing her bedroom door behind Marianne and whirling to face her. "First things first: long dress or short dress?"

"You _could_ wear dress pants," Marianne added, taking a seat on the foot of Dawn's puffy blue comforter.

"Nah," Dawn waved her hand dismissively and walked over to her large closet. "I'm in a dress kind of mood today."

"Dawn, you know I'm terrible at this kind of thing," Marianne glared at her sister from under her eyebrows.

"Yes, yes, but I need someone to tell me if I look hideous," Dawn sighed impatiently, pulling a lovely short blue dress with a tall collar and long sleeves out of the closet. "I know I just wore this to the Spring Ball, but do you think I'd be okay to wear it again?"

"It's up to you," Marianne shrugged noncommittedly.

"That's no help!" Dawn whined before shoving the dress back into her closet roughly. "I think _gold_ goes really well with my hair, but is it _too much_ gold?" Marianne sighed and shook her head with a laugh as her sister disappeared into her closet. A buzz coming from her back pocket shocked Marianne, and she remembered that she had been texting Bog before Dawn had interrupted her.

 _I imagine a princess like you has a lot of parties to attend tonight._

Marianne chuckled under her breath and bit her lip, thinking before quickly typing out a response and sending it.

 _Oh, yes, a movie night with my sister that was just canceled? It's a total rager!_

"What about this one?" Dawn emerged from her closet, now clad in a strapless, short gold dress with a flare around the hips. Marianne looked up, squinting at the dress in confusion.

"It's…um," Marianne was looking for adjectives that would satisfy her sister. "Well, it's… _lovely_." The word came out with an odd grimace. Dawn absolutely beamed at Marianne.

"That's _great!_ " Dawn squealed, hugging the grumpy woman. "That's amazing, coming from you!"

"Gee, thanks," Marianne replied sarcastically, sticking her tongue out at her sister playfully. "You just rock this, okay? I'm so proud of you." Marianne kissed Dawn's forehead, and Dawn nearly squished her sister in a bear hug.

"You're the best, Marianne," Dawn gave Marianne a gleaming smile and ran out the door, waving to her and making quite a bit of noise scurrying down the stairs and slamming the large double doors behind her.

"Well, now what?" Marianne sighed, falling backwards on Dawn's bed and taking her cell phone out of her pocket. The screen lit up and showed her that one message had been received from Bog.

 _In need of some company then, your Highness?_

Marianne's heart froze for a moment and she felt her body heat up in…embarrassment? It was a courtesy, asking if she needed a friend to take her sister's place. _He probably just wants to talk music,_ she thought, taking a few deep breaths. _Relax. It's totally platonic._ Marianne began typing out a response, telepathically telling her thumbs to stop shaking.

 _Sure, I had a few scores I wanted you to check out. Come by my place in half an hour?_

The response came minutes later.

 _Sure, see you soon._

Marianne jumped off of the bed, looking at the shirt and pajama pants she'd been wearing; they were covered with Cheeto powder, pizza sauce, and odd stains that were possibly from hair dye. "I need to put on actual clothes," she said to herself, oddly calm. She dashed back to her room and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that read "I've got 99 problems but pitch ain't one!" before dashing down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen.

"Hey there again, Miss Marianne," Cook saluted the disheveled girl with her spatula, but then took a closer look at her. "You look like a bat out of hell, child. What's wrong?"

"I suddenly have Bog coming over to talk music," Marianne threw her hands up in the air in disbelief. "I have no idea what to do for a friend like that. I mean, it's not like a high tea, or a movie night, or a sleepover. What do you do for a…business meeting, I guess?"

"Slow down, Miss Marianne," Cook chuckled a bit before getting thoughtful. "I don't know if he meant it quite like that. It may be best to just treat it like a movie night."

"You're right as usual, Cook," Marianne nodded at the woman, a bit dazed. "I got a little flustered. I didn't expect him to actually come over."

"Well, why not, if you offered?" Cook laughed at the girl, reaching into the freezer for some snacks. "I'll heat some snacks up for you. Is this the lad that dislikes tea as well?"

"Yeah, that's Bog," Marianne felt like she could finally relax. "I can do it, Cook. I feel a lot better. You can still go home early tonight."

"Young lady," Cook said sternly, turning her ferocious glare on Marianne. "I am going to stay _right here_ until I am confident that your date is going well. Food _is_ the way to a man's heart."

"It's not a date, Cook," Marianne shot the chef a glare. "Like I said, he's just coming over so that we can discuss music."

"Of course, Miss Marianne," Cook acknowledged the girl's comment with a nod. "Why don't you go ahead and get some of your music together? And, while you're at it, get the den all red up. I'm sure he'd feel more comfortable there than in the tea room."

"Good call," Marianne snapped and pointed at Cook before taking off, leaving Cook shaking her head.

"It's totally a date," Cook mumbled, turning her attention to the treats that she'd make for the pair that night. Meanwhile, Marianne was looking through the den for trash, old food, and any cushions out of place on the couches. The den was located across the foyer from the kitchen and was set up like a small movie theatre, featuring a large plasma screen television and several reclining leather chairs facing it. However, a portion of the room had also been dedicated to the small family's numerous game nights, with couches set up in a square around a large card table and a large shelf of various board and card games leaning haphazardly in the far corner of the room. Marianne assumed that they'd be using the card table that evening, and was frantically trying to fluff the pillows and put them back in place from the large pillow fort that Dawn had evidently been constructing. She was just admiring her handiwork when the doorbell rang, signaling Bog's arrival. Marianne zipped across the foyer and poked her head in the door to see Cook glaring at the oven.

"I'll get it, I think that's Bog," Marianne explained, jerking a thumb in the general direction of the double doors.

"Very well, Miss Marianne," Cook grumbled, shifting her glare from the oven to the girl. "If the blasted oven will cooperate, I'll have your snacks to you in a bit. I keep telling your father that we need a new one and he continues to wave it off."

"I'll be sure to speak with him about it, then," Marianne grinned at Cook's sour disposition before jumping at the sound of the doorbell ringing again. "I'm coming!" Marianne shouted at the doors, sliding over on her socks. As the door opened, Bog's face only looked a bit less sour than Cook's and it made Marianne chuckle a bit.

"I didn't know it took so long to open the door," Bog looked down his nose at the girl, who placed a hand on her hip and grinned at him as though she were amused.

"I'd almost forgotten what a drama queen you can be. Oops, _king_ ," Marianne shot back, gesturing for the man to come inside. He responded with a grunt and stepped inside, kicking off his shoes as he did so. "I've set us up in the den," Marianne grabbed Bog's hand and dragged him off to one side of the foyer, not noticing his face flush as she did so. "It's _much_ comfier than the tea room, don't worry. Oh! And Cook's bringing us some hot chocolate and snacks in a bit."

"You're very…kind," Bog responded, sounding strangled. As Marianne pulled him into the den, he decided to sit on a couch opposite her; he didn't want to seem too close to someone he'd only known for about two months.

"So I've arranged a few scores for our quartet, just to give us some modern repertoire," Marianne began, a bit nervously, pulling several papers out of an overstuffed folder that was in the middle of the table. Quite a few papers fluttered to the ground, and still more stuck out haphazardly from the pile in her hands. "Sorry it's a bit unorganized, I really do have a system…but anyway, I've got _I've Gotta Feeling_ , _Mistreated_ , _Strange Magic_ , a few others by the Offspring…"

"You've got quite a… _varied_ taste," Bog noted, picking up one paper after the other and giving a few an appreciative nod. "I like the way that this viola part has syncopation against the violin's rhythm in _Mistreated_."

"Oh, thanks," Marianne gave a shy smile and ran her hand through her short hair, ruffling it a bit. "It's a bit of a hobby…"

"I think these are very good," Bog looked at the woman with a pinched look. "I don't usually do arrangements, but I think that here in _I've Gotta Feeling_ , it would be more interesting for the viola and cello to play the melody and harmony."

"You're just prejudiced about cellos," Marianne teased, leaning over the table to study the passage Bog's long finger was resting on. "I mean, I guess, but in the original song, this section is sung by a woman. I thought it might translate better to our listeners if it was in the same range." She talked nonchalantly, twisting a few locks of hair around her fingers.

"See, that's the part I'm bad at," Bog crossed his arms and hissed, looking away from Marianne. "I don't want to follow the original song. I want to do it _my_ way. _That's_ why I'm an original composer."

"Never would've guessed," Marianne stuck her tongue out at Bog before pushing another score his way. "Here's an arrangement of _Time of Your Life_ by Green Day that has a cello-violin duet you might find interesting." She sat back and watched Bog look over the piece with great amusement; he began air conducting and murmuring to himself, squinting in some areas but looking wondered in others.

"This is really nice, Marianne," he still looked a bit dazed, as though he was in a musical trance. "I think with some more development and some practicing, we could pull this off for the competition."

"Do you really think we should play it?" Marianne shifted a bit uncomfortably, now avoiding Bog's eyes. "I was always told that—"

"Whatever Roland used to tell you were all jealous lies," Bog cut her off, and Marianne looked at him, surprised. He was still perusing the piece of music in front of him, but she could see Bog's eyebrows pinch a bit together. "You shouldn't still be thinking about them. Your arrangements are all very well put-together…for a spoiled princess."

"That's rich coming from his highness the Bog King," Marianne huffed before reluctantly smiling. "Thanks."

"Yeah," Bog replied nonchalantly, and Marianne took it to mean 'you're welcome'. "I think this and _Strange Magic_ would be nice to play in the competition. We've got the _Adagio for Strings_ for something classical, _Strange Magic_ for something old, and _Time of Your Life_ for something new. It'd be a well-rounded program."

"Thanks, Bog," Marianne looked at the man, who held her gaze and grinned back. "I don't remember being this excited for a long time."

"Don't get _too_ excited," Bog shrugged and exhaled in a short huff. "We still have to make sure it's okay with Stuff and Thang."

"Yeah," Marianne chuckled. "But they'll say yes. So, is that everything?"

"Well, all of these pieces have potential," Bog continued looking at the huge pile of loose papers that sat between him and Marianne. "You should keep working on them. I think three pieces will be about our limit in the competition, though. You'll have to save the others for another time."

"We should play one of your pieces next time, too," Marianne grinned hugely at the grim man. "I loved what you played at the recording studio."

"I have been working on something," Bog muttered thoughtfully, stacking the papers all into a neat pile. "But I don't know if you can handle it, Tough Girl."

"Bring it, King," Marianne stuck her tongue out at Bog, who shot her a sarcastic grin.

"So, what's our next gig?" Bog crossed his arms as Marianne carefully shoved the papers into a folder. She looked up at him with an evil smile.

"I thought it might be interesting to play somewhere a little more _your_ style," Marianne lifted her chin cockily.

"And where would that be?" Bog snorted. "A seedy club? A warehouse?" Marianne's look turned a bit guilty, and Bog glanced at her sharply. "Seriously? A warehouse?"

"Warehouses are totally cool now!" Marianne pleaded, banging a fist on the table for emphasis. "Think of it as practice for the competition! It'll be us and a few garage bands!"

"And just how did you set this up, oh queen of the underworld?" Bog rested his cheek on his fist, glare not letting up.

"I like going out a listening to the new talent!" Marianne protested, raising her nose in the air. "My dad always said to experience the music yourself! Never sign a label with someone you've never heard!"

"It's good advice," Bog nodded somewhat approvingly. "So, business is done?"

"Yeah…" Marianne laughed a bit nervously. "That went pretty quickly…"

"How about a movie?" Bog suggested, standing and making it over to a leather recliner in two strides.

"Why, you afraid I'll whoop your ass in Scrabble?" Marianne challenged, plucking a game off of the shelf. Immediately the fire of competition lit in Bog's eyes.

"Obviously Stuff and Thang never told you why everyone calls me a king," Bog walked back over and looked on mockingly as Marianne took out the game board and tiles. "It's because I'm the king of Scrabble, little princess."

"Looks like you're going to have to change your name after tonight then, _prince_ ," Marianne laughed as she plunked down the word _queen_ for 18 points. Bog arched his brow at the challenge and slid _equinox_ into place.

"Don't mess with the king unless you're sure you can overthrow him," Bog sat back in his chair proudly.

"This game has just begun," Marianne slammed her hand on the table, making the tiles jump, and snatched away five from the pool.

Hours later, the two Scrabble players had given up on attempting to beat the other in Scrabble and declared a tie. Marianne demanded to watch _Kill Bill_ , and Bog had relented somewhat reluctantly. The movie began with both parties making comments on the gore level, the characterization, how they could have definitely pulled the same moves. Marianne nearly demonstrated a roundhouse kick on Bog, before he threatened to finish the pizza rolls that Cook had brought in to the pair. However, that had been at least an hour ago, and Cook hadn't heard a peep from the den since. _Should I go check on them?_ She wondered, as an honorable, self-appointed chaperone would. She tiptoed closer and closer to the door, still hearing the film, but not hearing any talking. _Are they finally kissing?_ Cook wondered excitedly, and peeked into the room. Imagine how shocked she was to find both Bog and Marianne passed out on the floor, leaning against the chairs, the forgotten platter of half-eaten snacks on the floor between their legs. Marianne's head had fallen onto Bog's shoulder, and Bog had kicked his leg out to entwine with Marianne's. Cook carefully closed the door, trying not to wake the couple, and walked away with a huge smile. "I remember love when I was that young. What a beautiful thing."

 **Hey everybody! I'm back! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to post another chapter! I've been adding to this story when I have time, but last semester was just a nightmare and I didn't really have any free time to spend on this. However, I've gotten caught up a little with Christmas break, and I don't have as many credits this semester, so I hope to finish this particular fic during this semester! I wanted to thank you for still reading and commenting, and I will be responding to comments and catching up on all of that! HAPPY 2016 EVERYBODY! I hope you all had a lovely holiday, and thank you so much for sticking with this story! :)**

 **Sorry guests, I don't know your names, but thank you for your kind comments! Trust me, there will be more coming your way, and in a much more timely manner!**

 **Anime Pirate 13: They are super adorable, aren't they?! I was nearly weepy at all their cute moments in the film! I was squeaking with happiness while writing that last chapter, finally FINALLY being able to let some of my raging fangirliness out! I'm so glad you liked the backstories being meshed! I was a little nervous diverging from the original storyline, but I mean, this is itself a divergence, so... Anyway, thank you so much for commenting! I'm so glad you like the story and I'm very grateful for your comment! :D**

 **2manyfandomstho: OH YEAH, ANOTHER ORCHESTRA BUDDY! I'm so glad you ranted to me! I always felt so bad for the violas, I think you guys get such a bad rap for NO GOOD REASON. The directors aren't nice even though you're so close to graduating! Don't worry, Thang will get the justice that he deserves! Hopefully your director learns to appreciate you (it sucks that they don't really think about what they're doing till you're gone -_-)! Thank you so much for commenting, I'm so glad you read this story and liked it! I turned to fanfiction right after I watched the movie as well (there are some AMAZING fanfics for this movie, so that helped me get super obsessed)! But hearing about people's experiences with instruments just helps me with writing the story! If you have any suggestions or tips or anything, just let me know, I'd be happy to hear what you have to say! :) Thank you again so much!**

 **AND I will be back soon! I PROMISE! Thank you all again for reading, commenting, favoriting, and following! It means so much to me! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

"Okay, thanks for making it today, everyone," Bog announced at the next quartet rehearsal, glaring at Thang in particular. " _Some_ people's schedules have been hard to work with, but you've been really flexible so thanks for that." Thang narrowed his eyes and muttered something into Stuff's ear, who waved him off. Marianne rolled her eyes at the man attempting to run a "controlled" rehearsal and took a bite out of one of Griselda's cookies. "Marianne and I went over some pieces and we decided on three to play at Banff, if you guys think it's doable. Here are your pieces," Bog handed the two some sheets, turning slightly red. He had fallen asleep at Marianne's house and woken up the next morning with her sweet-smelling head on his shoulder.

"I also got us a gig at The Warehouse," Marianne announced, accepting a packet of papers from Bog with a nod. "It's a pretty up-and-coming place here, and it's a good way to get our name out there." She glanced up at him shyly, remembering how flustered he had been when they woke up together that morning, her head on his shoulder. He had stammered out an apology and hightailed it out of her house.

"Look at us, getting out there, playing gigs," Stuff grinned proudly as she flipped through the music that Bog had given her. "Honestly, I didn't know what to make of this quartet at first, but it's turning out to be pretty profitable."

"So even though we still have to keep practicing hard for Banff," Bog continued as though Stuff hadn't said anything. "Now the gig at The Warehouse is top priority. Any ideas for repertoire? Marianne has some excellent arrangements written, but I'm sure we could come up with some more if we need to appeal to a more… _recently born_ crowd." He raised his eyebrow at the group's principal violinist.

"The Warehouse also doubles as a bar and club," Marianne clarified, shooting a playful glare at the cellist in retaliation. "It will be a more 'recently born' crowd, but everyone loves a good string quartet arrangement. The gig will be in two months, so if there are any suggestions, speak up now."

"What if we did a Beatles tribute?" Thang exclaimed excitedly, grabbing Stuff's arm. Bog stiffened and Stuff sighed heavily, rolling her eyes.

"We just got done saying that it was a young crowd, Thang," Bog growled, towering over the violist menacingly. "Nobody is going to know any Beatles songs!"

"I go out clubbing sometimes," Stuff shrugged nonchalantly. "They mostly play dancing songs, so if we go for something upbeat, I bet they'll receive it well."

"I've got an arrangement of _I've Got a Feeling_ ," Marianne suggested doubtfully. "Is that dancy enough?"

"Sure," Stuff replied, sitting up in her chair instead of leaning it back on two legs. "I think that if we could do a song that drops the bass, it would really get their attention. Maybe like _What Do You Mean_ , that new Justin Bieber song." Bog made a face at this suggestion.

"I get what you're saying," Marianne nodded, scribbling the name and artist down in a notebook. "I think it would be pretty cool to open up with a classical piece, but segue into a modern song in the middle."

"That would throw the audience for a bit," Bog chuckled. "From Mozart to modern. We have a limited amount of time to get some new pieces written, though, so we do have to stick with a lot of Marianne's arrangements and my compositions." Marianne looked at Bog in surprise.

"We're going to do one of your own compositions?" she grinned broadly and nudged the thin man in his ribs.

"Well, I said that I had some stuff written," Bog replied defensively, flinching at the poke and shoving Marianne's shoulder back roughly. "I have some easy ones that we can pull together in a few months."

"Really?" Thang gasped, his mouth hanging wide open.

"Yes, really, or I wouldn't have suggested it," Bog snapped, picking up his cello. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies. Let's get started with _I've Got A Feeling_ tonight, and then we can run through our pieces for Banff."

"Sounds good," Marianne agreed, tucking her violin under her chin and playing her open A string. "How's this for an A, King?"

"It's still flat, Tough Girl," Bog teased, playing his own string in response. "Obviously mine sounds better."

"I can already tell that this practice is going to be a good one," Stuff muttered to Thang under her breath, rolling her eyes sarcastically.

And it was a good rehearsal, Marianne thought. They played through the pieces all the way through a few times, to get the general idea of them, and then did a bit of wood-shedding with them. Though the group could only meet for an hour without anybody killing any of the other members, they did manage to get a lot done as long as Stuff and Marianne kept Bog from yelling at Thang too often. By the end of that night's rehearsal, Marianne was exhausted.

"We did good work," Bog said as the group packed up. "Just make sure you all practice; and yes, I'm looking at you specifically, Thang." Thang made a small noise of distress in his throat. "And Marianne, did you want to get together sometime this weekend to start on the arrangements for some of the new pieces?" Marianne looked at Bog, startled.

"Get together?" She repeated. "I thought I'd just write them myself…"

"It's faster with the two of us," Bog dismissed Marianne's words with a wave of his hand. "It's a lot of work for one person. I'd feel bad making you do everything, and I _am_ a professional composer, so I can give you _professional_ advice."

"The only professional advice you can give me is your professional opinion on whether I should punch you in your arm or shove my foot up your ass," Marianne laughed, punching Bog's arm anyway. "If you really want to help, I have some time on Saturday afternoon after tea."

"Okay, I'll see you then," Bog nodded with a smile, a slight blush covering his angular cheeks.

"Why don't you come over here, dear?" Griselda popped up out of nowhere and gave Marianne a huge, toothy smile. "We have snacks!"

"Sure," Marianne shrugged helplessly, shooting a look over at Bog, who slapped his forehead in exasperation.

"You went over there last week, my boy," Griselda commented nonchalantly, raucous voice echoing throughout the empty house. "I'll stay out of your hair, I promise!"

"I trust Thang's word over yours," Bog replied sourly, causing Thang to gasp and rush over to whisper in Stuff's ear with a huge grin on his face. Marianne chuckled at the warm, friendly feelings in the room. It had been a long time since she had spent time with friends and felt so carefree. Ever since Roland had come into her life, Marianne had found herself less willing to spend time with the few friends she'd made through high school and the first two years of university. It was subtle, and she hadn't realized that she'd been missing it until now. As she watched Bog stomp over to Thang and start arguing with him, Marianne's heart filled with the warmth of companionship.

"We're not an easy group of people to get along with," Stuff spoke up from beside Marianne, also watching the two males interact with a soft fondness in her eyes. "But you won't be able to get rid of us very easily, I can tell you that for sure." Marianne let out a small chuckle and carefully fit her violin into her case.

"How did you meet each other?" Marianne asked, sitting next to Stuff on Bog's mustard-colored couch; she could tell that the guys would be a while, yelling and arguing.

"Thang and I have been friends since we were kids," Stuff smiled. "We've been next-door neighbors for our entire life. He doesn't see me as anything but 'one of the guys', though. It wasn't till our last year of high school that we met Bog." Stuff's smile receded a bit as she surveyed Bog thoughtfully. "He was angry and everyone was scared of him. The man walked around like he was going to bite someone's head off. But Thang and I were assigned to play in a trio with him, cause nobody else would. I guess you could say that we kind of adopted him, but once a group, always a group. We've never played with a different cellist. Loyalty of the string players, I guess." Stuff let out a laugh, and Marianne looked at the young woman beside her with a degree of surprise. Stuff could say what she wanted about loyalty, but the woman held the two men, her two fellow musicians, with a great deal more than just loyalty or respect.

"Stuff, you'd better not be telling her anything you shouldn't be," Bog threw over his shoulder at the woman, who stuck her tongue out at him and laughed. Marianne noticed the quirky little half smile on Bog's face as Stuff walked over to the two men and began scolding Thang as well, and felt her own smile growing a bit dimmer. There had been a time when she had been surrounded by kind-hearted people like this, had smiled and laughed, had been so carefree. Being around the tight-knit trio always made Marianne's heart constrict a bit, even though they also brought back wisps of the feelings of comradery that had slept within her for so long. Marianne looked up; she was sure that she had heard her name called.

"Marianne!" Thang was yelling excitedly, over Bog's snarling to keep his voice down. "Someone is setting off fireworks outside! Should we go out the back door and watch them?"

"Yeah, that sounds like fun!" Marianne smiled at the man as he nervously adjusted his bottlecap glasses. "Let's go!" Marianne, Stuff, and Thang ran like children out the back door, following the winking light of fireflies, being trailed by a bemused Bog.

"You're seriously going to run out there without any shoes on? How old are you all again?" he sighed, shaking his head and letting the screen door shut with a _bang_ behind him. Marianne turned back to him, watching as he surveyed the small swamplike area that was his backyard with a degree of disgust in his eyes. They strayed to a large weeping willow that covered a good portion of the backyard, his chosen place of recluse to escape from his "cello lessons" given by his father. Bog felt a warm pressure on his hand and looked down to see Marianne gripping his fingers.

"Come on, let's get moving," she said, with a small smile. Her words were an encouragement; Bog could see the gentleness in her eyes that gave him the will to take a step off of the porch. "Lose the shoes, King." Bog glared at her and carefully untied his shoes, pulled off his socks, and set them gently on the porch. Marianne took off running to join the other two musicians, who were waving at the pair and calling to them from a few feet away, and pulled Bog with her, his hand still entwined in hers. Bog stumbled into a jog, and then, as the wind whipping through his hair and the smells of late summer became more noticeable, broke into a run. His legs were much longer than Marianne's and he soon outpaced her, but as he looked back at her, their hands still joined, he saw the same joyful fire in her eyes that he was beginning to feel in his heart. They neared Stuff and Thang, and he slowed to a halt, but his heart did not.

"What took you so long, Bog?" Thang whined, partially hiding behind Stuff.

"I'm not traipsing around a bog with good shoes on, Thang," Bog growled at the man, but was interrupted by a loud bang. It was long after the Fourth of July, but someone must've had fireworks left over from the holiday. The sky lit up in bursts of red, green, blue, and purple, each loud bang and burst of color bathing Bog's swampy yard in a light that he had never seen it in before. It was beautiful, he thought, and that's when he noticed the slight pressure on his hand. Marianne had never relinquished it; he looked over to her and his teasing died on his lips. Marianne surveyed the bright explosions with large eyes, her lips slightly parted in excitement and amazement. Purple light flashed in her eyes and coated her body as another firework exploded in the sky, making her look like a beautiful woodland fairy. Bog found himself leaning towards her ever so slightly, and as she turned her beautiful dark eyes to him and gazed up at him with the same wonder she regarded the fireworks, he knew that he was going to kiss her under the weeping willow, under the fiercely beautiful light of the fireworks.

And that's when a splintering noise caught Bog's attention. A horrible moaning and cracking noise was sounding from behind him. Bog ripped his eyes away from Marianne to see his house swaying unnaturally.

"What the hell is going on?" Bog roared, sprinting harder than he ever had before back to the house, leaving Marianne standing by the willow with a horrified expression on her face. He did not turn back to her.

 **Hey everybody! I'm again making all of the apologies for taking so long to update! I've been having a lot of personal shit happening to me this semester, and I wasn't in the right state of mind to be writing this, because this story is really written through my passion and my passion was kind of sucked out of me. I'm in a much better position now, with much better friends, and the passion that I have for this story is slowly coming back to me. I had most of this chapter written out before all of this shit went down, so I just needed to do a little bit of writing to get this up for you all.**

 **You're all so wonderful and every notification that I've gotten that someone else has liked my story or has left a review has motivated me to try and continue it. I may be really busy, but I'm going to spend a lot of time with this story and dammit, I'm going to finish it! I've only got a few more major scenes and so it'll probably be wrapping up really quickly, but I may do some drabbles in this AU because I really do love it!**

 **Now for replying to reviews! I read every one and I really love hearing what you have to say!**

 _Anime Pirate 13: They did go on a date! I was giggling like a madwoman as I wrote that chapter. That is my DREAM date! _ I love picturing those two dweebs doing the cutest things! I'M SO GLAD THEY WERE CUTE TO YOU! That was my big goal for the chapter, superfluff! I'm really hoping to write some more fluff chapters after all this serious crap is out of the way, cause let's be honest, Bog and Marianne are too cute to be put through all of the horrible stuff they were in the movie! D: Anyways, thanks for reviewing! I'm really glad you like it so far! :) I hope they continue to be super cute for you in this fic!_

 _Shahrezad1: Thank you thank you thank you! :D That's so kind of you to say about my story! I really appreciate it! :) I'm really glad that my characterizations were good! I was a little skeptical about adding in the original characters, like Cook, but I'm really glad she isn't out of place as well! I'm really glad that the musical part of it is also really understandable. I'm so grateful for all of your kind and lovely comments! I'm really glad that you're enjoying the story so far. :)_

 **As always, I'm so grateful to everyone who reads this story! I'm very glad that you are enjoying it and I hope that it will continue to be enjoyable for you all to read. Thank you all so very much for reading! :) I hope you all have a lovely life until the next time I update! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

A frantic screaming was emerging from the house, Griselda no doubt. Marianne could barely process what was going on and she could only watch in horror as a huge wrecking ball started swinging closer and closer to the house, leading an army of bulldozers.

"Marianne, what are you just standing there for?!" Stuff yelled, jerking Marianne back to reality. "Come on, we have to stop them!" Stuff and Thang were already halfway across the yard, and Marianne's long legs snapped out of their stupor and quickly caught her up to the two shorter beings.

"STOP!" she yelled as loudly and forcefully as she could. The engine on the machine sputtered to a stop, and just as Marianne was breathing a huge sigh of relief, one of the doors opened to reveal a very familiar face.

"Did you miss me, darlin'?" Roland's drawl echoed around the now-eerie quiet; even the crickets had stopped chirping. Marianne clenched her fist.

"Roland…what are you _doing_?!" Marianne yelled, her voice getting so high at the end that it cracked.

"This house is under my father's jurisdiction," Roland's lazy grin turned sinister as he lowered his eyebrows menacingly. "It's been condemned, and we're just cleaning up the mess." Marianne looked towards the house anxiously. Bog had not hesitated to run inside, but she couldn't see him or Griselda.

"You can't bulldoze a house with people still inside of it!" Marianne yelled back, angry tears forming in her eyes.

"I can do whatever I want on _my_ property," Roland's grin became carefree again. "It's _our_ property, darlin'. We can rule this land, together!"

"I don't want _anything_ to do with you anymore, Roland!" Marianne roared, stalking over to the machine with every intent to beat Roland into a bloody pulp.

"Then you only have yourself to blame for this!" Roland's beautiful face darkened in anger and he turned back into the cab at the top of the machine. The machine with the wrecking ball backed away from the house, but two bulldozers approached the side of the small structure and began pushing it to the ground. At this point, Bog emerged from his house with his tiny mother slung over his shoulder.

"Take care of her!" he shouted, setting Griselda on the ground before dashing back inside the house.

"Stuff, Thang, take care of her!" Marianne screamed, sprinting after Bog and into the house. She coughed and blinked as she entered, dust flying wildly through the air as the walls shook and wood fell from the ceiling. "Bog!" she called, ducking as a piece of dark wood fell from above her head. "Bog, where are you?!"

"Marianne!" Bog's snarl came from the living room, and he soon appeared in the hallway with two violin cases in one hand, a viola and a decorative jar in the other. "What are you doing in here?! Get back!" As if to echo his words, the ceiling above him creaked and the entire ceiling began collapsing behind him. Marianne began coughing, and couldn't even open her eyes for all the dust. "Move!" Bog screamed, pushing the girl in front of him and out onto the porch. Marianne wiped her eyes with her sleeve and opened them, blinking several times. Bog was shoving the violins and the jar into her arms, and she bobbled them a bit before assuredly closing her grip on them while Bog tossed the viola to the ground beside the porch. Marianne ran down to the lawn and threw the instruments to the ground beside Griselda, and turned back to see Bog dashing back into the house.

"My husband!" Griselda was screaming hysterically, trying to throw herself onto the jar. Stuff was holding the woman back, looking at Marianne frantically over Griselda's head.

"Bog!" Marianne yelled, running back up to the porch and peering into the house desperately. The bulldozers kept moving, and the side of the house was an absolute wreck, but she couldn't see the tall cellist. "Bog! You have to get out of there!"

"Marianne!" A tall figure was barely silhouetted against the darkness of the crumbling walls, and was advancing quickly towards her. Marianne barely looked into the icy blue eyes before she heard a groan, saw a large object advancing towards her, and put her arms out instinctively. Marianne caught the cello, letting out an _oof_ of surprise as she looked back up, her eyes searching desperately for Bog. The roof had completely collapsed now, and Bog was desperately trying to hold it up.

"GO!" he howled with what sounded like the force of forty men. Blinking back tears, Marianne took one hesitant step backwards, the precious cello clutched safely in her arms. That was all the house needed, apparently, as the structure collapsed, raining wood, pipes, and shingles down on the cellist. Marianne screamed repeatedly, looking for any sign of Bog in the settling dust and rubble, until her throat was raw and his name barely rasped past her lips. The cello fell from her trembling fingers as Marianne collapsed on the ground, gasping for air that didn't seem to reach her lungs quickly enough. Around her, Griselda was weeping with huge, gasping sobs, Thang was staring absentmindedly at the instruments, hands still outstretched to grab Bog from the doorway, and Stuff was angrily advancing towards, and yelling at, the workers, who were rapidly backing away from her powerful presence.

"It's okay, darlin'," Roland's voice sounded nonchalantly from behind Marianne. "You have me. And now we can have my-I mean, _our_ -happily ever after."

"Why, you!" Stuff shouted, turning from the workers to Roland with a fury none had seen out of the young woman before. Marianne stood, however, silencing the protests of Stuff, and looked at Roland.

"That's right, Marianne," Roland cooed, outstretching his hand. "I-I mean, _we_ -can rule this entire city. Just take my hand."

"Don't do it, Marianne!" Stuff shouted, beginning to run towards the woman, when she saw movement of the debris pile that had once been Bog's house. Though the movement wasn't enough to draw Marianne's attention away from Roland, Stuff could see a few boards move slightly, and heard a faint coughing. Bog's rapidly blinking eyes and dusty face emerged from the pile just as Marianne slipped her hand into Roland's. Roland smirked triumphantly at the absolutely devastated look on Bog's face as Marianne began to draw Roland closer. Just like old times…

…Until she slammed her forehead against his in a powerful headbutt. Shocked gasps emitted from the crowd, and a weak groan escaped Roland's lips as he slid to the ground in dazed confusion.

"Wh-What the hell is going on?" Thang finally shrieked, before collapsing against Stuff in shock.

"Don't you EVER think that you can hurt MY friends and get away with it," Marianne hissed. "Nobody in this town has to answer to you for _anything_. Bog may not be as wealthy as you, but he is richer than you could ever hope to be, because he has friends and family that _love_ him!" Marianne's chest was heaving with rapid, shallow breaths, and she turned to Stuff with a fury in her eyes. "We are getting Bog _out of there_!"

"Uh, Marianne," Stuff replied weakly, pointing at the rubble. Marianne's heart nearly stopped as she heard weak coughing behind her. She whirled around, eyes widening as she beheld the bright blue eyes that had grown so familiar to her.

"Bog!" Marianne screamed, running as fast as she could to his side.

"My son!" Griselda wailed, nearly outpacing Marianne and embracing her son in a crushing bear hug.

"Ow!" Bog snapped at his mother, causing her to draw back quickly and examine him. He clutched his right arm to his side, eyes slit with pain.

"I'll c-call an ambulance!" Thang wailed, smashing some numbers into his cell phone and screeching the address of the now-former residence into the speaker.

"Can someone drive Bog to the hospital?" Stuff spoke over her friend, voice shaky and very panicky. "Thang can't even speak properly and I doubt the ambulance will be here for a few hours with _his_ directions." Stuff inspected Marianne, finding her friend statue-still, gazing at Bog with a great deal of pain.

"I'll take him! Right now!" Griselda sobbed, wiping tears constantly from her eyes. She grabbed Bog's good arm and dragged him over to her car. Bog, hissing from the constant fire that seemed to be racing up his arm, passed out again as soon as he got into the front seat. The car pulled haphazardly out of the former driveway and sped away in the direction of the hospital, leaving Stuff, Thang, and Marianne standing in the ruins of Bog's kingdom. Marianne looked around the yard hollowly, finally focusing on Roland's prone shape in the grass, lying next to the quartet's instruments. She slowly pulled out her cell phone and began dialing on it.

"Hello, 9-1-1?" Marianne's voice was quiet and subdued. "I would like to report a case of attempted manslaughter. Mm-hm. I'll give you the address." She paced the perimeter of the yard, not caring if she stepped on a piece of debris, talking to the secretary on the line. The police showed up in a matter of minutes, to which Marianne pointed out Roland as the suspect.

"We'll need everyone involved to come down to the station for witness reports and testimonies," the police chief addressed Marianne, but also gave Stuff and Thang pointed looks. "Where is the victim?"

"Saint Thomas Memorial Hospital down the road," Stuff replied quietly, taking Thang's hand as Thang shook uncontrollably and attempted to stutter out a response. "Bog King."

"Thank you, ma'am," the chief nodded at Stuff. "I realize that you are all very affected by this incident, but we need your testimonies as close to the event as possible. May I drive you down to the station?" Stuff nodded compliantly, pulling Thang along with her as she made her way to the chief's car and throwing a concerned glance at Marianne over her shoulder. "Ma'am?" the chief addressed Marianne directly now, trying to make eye contact with the woman. Marianne was in another place; a grassy place with bursts of light in the sky, and two icy blue eyes. "Ma'am!" the chief repeated himself a bit harshly, shaking Marianne out of her stupor.

"I'm sorry, sir," Marianne responded quietly. "I will come with you."

"Thank you."

The car, lights still flashing, drove away quickly. However, the drive seemed like an eternity to Marianne; while everything whizzed by in a frenzy outside the window, she couldn't shake the last half-hour from her mind. It replayed over and over in slow-motion, like a CD that couldn't be taken out of the player.

"Is Marianne okay?" Dawn gasped into her cell phone, tears threatening to spill onto her perfectly made-up cheeks. Sunny watched her intently, concerned at the sudden phone call that came minutes before Dawn was to go onstage.

"Is she okay?" Sunny whispered anxiously, only to get a "SHHHH!" from Dawn. She was still listening intently.

"Okay," she sighed, the worry still fresh in her eyes, a few seconds later. "I'll fly back tonight. Please tell her I love her…so much…" Dawn ended the call, sniffling and looking at Sunny with her "I'm-about-to-cry" face. "Something happened at Bog's house with Roland…Daddy said he didn't know much, only that she's with the police now and that she's okay." Sunny breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm so glad that she's okay," the man gave Dawn a slight smile, but she looked at him with her tears already spilling steadily down her cheeks. "Hey, girl, come here," Sunny soothed as he pulled his client into a hug, feeling his heart skip a beat as he did so. "Remember what I told you? Don't worry 'bout a thing…cause every little thing–"

"—is gonna be alright," Dawn finished for her friend, sniffling a little bit and pulling away.

"That's right," Sunny smiled softly at her, reaching out a hand to dry her cheeks. "Let's see a smile." Dawn complied, fueled by a feeling of warmth and affection for her manager and best friend. "There's my girl."

"Sunny…" Dawn began, about to tell him how thankful she felt for his kindness and caring spirit. "…I love you." Her eyes widened a bit, surprised to find that this statement was exactly how she felt about the man that had been by her side for so many years.

"What?" Sunny looked confused at first, eyes as round as Dawn's, but the confusion quickly gave way to a hope that was so raw and desperate that Dawn couldn't help it.

"I LOVE YOU!" she shouted, throwing her arms around Sunny and kissing him deeply. Sunny's wide eyes quickly closed in bliss as the moment he had dreamed about for years finally fell upon him. Dawn had dated a lot of men, and had her fair share of first kisses. This kiss blew all of them out of the water. She pulled away, starstruck by the deep emotional connection that comes with being in love with your best friend. Sunny seemed equally as starstruck, gazing into Dawn's warm eyes with such a depth of emotion that it took Dawn's breath away.

"I…I love you too, Dawn," Sunny breathed, before kissing her again. He would have been perfectly content to kiss her for the rest of the day, month, year, life, but a woman with a headset and clipboard cleared her throat.

"Ms. Primrose, it's time," she stated tersely. "They are waiting for you." The couple broke away, and Dawn squinted at the woman.

"Um, I, uh," she stammered for a bit, before regaining her footing. "Yes. About that…I have a family emergency and I'm going to have to leave right now. Please inform everyone that they will be either refunded their ticket money or given tickets to an alternative show." Dawn turned to Sunny. "Come, darling. I think we have a lot to discuss on the ride home."

"I think you're right, love," Sunny winked at his now-lover, and the two walked out the door hand-in-hand, leaving the stagehand dumbstruck.

 **I am beyond sorry for the lack of updating. Again, a lot happening in my life, but it has all been wonderful. Thank you to everyone that has read this story, that has favorited it, that has commented. I'm planning on ending it this summer, with a couple more chapters. I usually like to have some written in advance, but now I'm going to be uploading as I finish it, so I'm not decided on the exact number of chapters yet. As you all can probably tell, it's coming to the end of the story. I've thought about writing a sequel, but I honestly believe that even the ending of the movie is a good, final one; I hope that the ending of the story will be as well, although I think it would be fun to make a chapter that's set a few years in the future! :) Let me know your thoughts. Thank you thank you THANK YOU all for reading and keeping up with the story, even though I've been a terrible author and I haven't been updating very often. Here's to the end, coming soon! It's been a very fun journey for me, and I hope it has been for all of you as well! :)**

 **Still replying to reviews, though I'm very bad with keeping up with them.**

 _Shahrezad1: Thank you so much for your continued support! It means a lot to me. :) I'm so glad that you liked the chapter! That one was really hard for me to write (as was this one!) because I was focusing on such a short period of time! Your kind words and advice make me feel so much better about the chapter! I was honestly like "Now, how would I freaking ask someone out on a second date?" and that's how I wrote Bog sneakily working that in there. XD So smooth and so blatantly obvious at the same time. And thank you especially for your encouragement about real-life stuff. It makes me want to finish this and make sure you all get that happy ending (OR IS IT?!). XD Again, thank you so much for your comments, and thank you for reading! Cheers! :)_

 _Anime Pirate 13: I know, right! Houses ruin everything, the original cockblocker! XD But thank you for reading, and I'm glad that liked the chapter! They are GOING to kiss, I can promise you that. I'm a huge sucker for romance...as the author I feel like I'm just kind of pushing their faces together and saying "now...kiss!", but I'm the author so they're going to kiss, dammit! But I hope that you continue to enjoy the story! Thank you very much for reading, and thank you for commenting! :)_

 _Livvy Romanfluff: Oh goodness, it is FAR from a masterpiece! But thank you so much for reading! I'm glad that you like the story so much! :) You seem to be having as much fun reading as I have had writing it, and that's all that I could hope for! :) This chapter is SUPER late, but I hope that it was worth waiting for! I hope that you enjoy the rest of the story! Thank you so much for commenting! :)_

 _Marigold Lover: Thank you so much! I'm glad that it isn't too depressing. ._. I never want the characters to go through more than they can handle! I'm glad that you enjoyed the fic overall, my aim is to make it seem like I have fun writing it. Because I do have a lot of fun with it! Music is always a very joyous thing to be shared. :) Thank you so much for reading and commenting!_

 **As always, I would like to thank everyone for sticking with this fic! Thank you so much for reading! Even if you don't comment, it always means so much to me that people actually read the story. XD But we're down to the final few chapters, so thanks for sticking with me this whole time. :) See you guys in the next chapter!**


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